Growing Together
by SS Dispatch
Summary: Dean and Seamus were only able to admit their love for each other after the war. But now that the turmoil is over, they'll have to discover what it means to be together, to grow together. (Unfinished - scheduling for deletion in the near future to be replaced with different Deamus fic).
1. Moving

**A/N: This is my own self-inflicted, one word inspired, 30 day fanfic challenge. The words will be listed as chapter titles :)**

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June 2000

"This is hell," Seamus said with a groan as he lifted a particularly heavy box. "What the bloody hell is in this anyway?" He glanced down at the marker scrawled on it. "Just art supplies?!" He shouted as he headed into the cramped apartment.

Dean was struggling just behind him with a box weighed down by Seamus's massive ceramic dishes. The plates were the size of his head and weighed far too much for a dish. "Don't you start. Your shit's just as heavy." Dean said as he followed into the apartment, wandering into the kitchen and putting the box on the floor. The counters were already crammed with other kitchen supplies in boxes.

"Why can't we just use our magic?" Seamus asked, his hand instinctively patting at the concealed wand in his jacket.

"Because this is London, Shay." Dean reminded him, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Muggles live here, they'll see it and freak out. Do you really want to obliviate this whole building just to make this go faster?" He turned, looking over the half wall of the kitchen to his boyfriend in the living room.

Seamus seemed to think about this for a moment, his hand still resting on his side to feel the wand beneath his clothes. "Yes." He said with a silly smirk.

Dean rolled his eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "C'mon. There's only a few more boxes left." Most of their stuff had already been brought in by Dean's stepdad and his younger sisters and brothers the days before. But they had just a handful of boxes that were left in his father's borrowed truck downstairs. His family had already headed home, but his father had kindly left the truck after Dean had accidentally admitted that neither of them had a car. His father had insisted he keep the car, and Dean had not wanted to explain that they could transport around town via magical means, let alone the underground.

"They bloody well better be the last boxes." Seamus said, heading back out the wide open front door.

Dean followed, reminding Seamus to not take the stairs four at a time, "You'll break your ankle! Do you have any idea how long it takes a broken ankle to heal properly?"

"Itn't as long as it takes to cast a — ?"

"Seamus," Dean interrupted, shaking his head as he trailed down the last few steps of the stairwell toward the large front door toward the street. "Y'know what I meant." He murmured as they walked to the beat up Ford Ranger, an old model. His dad was one of the only people he knew who owned a pickup truck, and Dean was slightly embarrassed to own it. He reached into the truck bed and picked up one large box, labelled as clothing. It wasn't too heavy, so he had Seamus put a smaller, lighter box on top. Seamus picked up the last box in the trunk along with a tall lamp in his other hand. The two struggled through the front door again, and just barely made it up the stairs. They placed their boxes down haphazardly by the front door. Dean slammed the front door of their apartment shut with his foot as Seamus set up the lamp in the corner of the room, just beside the couch that had been set up yesterday. "DONE." Dean called out triumphantly before walking over to said couch and flopping down on it in exhaustion.

"We still got to unpack." Seamus said, looking down at Dean over the arm of the couch.

Dean met his eyes and gave him his goofy smile. "Yeah, but we can do it as we go along. We have what's essential out already."

"Except dishes, the telly," Seamus had fallen in love with television when Dean had introduced him to it, "and the majority of our clothes."

Dean snickered because he just couldn't help himself.

"What? What are you laughing at?" Seamus said, suspicious. Dean was never up to anything good when he laughed like that.

"Who said we need clothes?" Dean's goofy grin morphed into his sly smile. He thought he looked so sultry when he did that, but Seamus just thought he looked ridiculous. But in a cute way. He leaned down to kiss him, but as soon as their lips moved apart again Dean was giggling again. "What are you so damn giddy about?" Seamus said, slightly bemused by his boyfriend's fits of laughter.

"Well, we officially live together. Aren't I allowed to be excited about that?"

Seamus shrugged, "Yeah, I suppose. It took long enough, that's for sure." It had been Seamus' idea to move in together. It had been a rough couple of years after the war ended, but the primary difficulty was trying to find time to be close. At Dean's it was always a struggle with his siblings running around, many of whom would have been first or second years at Hogwarts. But somehow Dean was the only one with magic. And when they were at Seamus', they were constantly in the presence of his overbearing mother. Since the war ended, she'd been incredibly concerned for her son. No matter how often he reminded her that Voldemort was dead (he'd seen the body for Merlin's sake) she was still very anxious that something bad was going to happen to him even after all this time. It had taken some convincing to get out of the house, but once she realized that Dean would never let anything bad happen to Seamus she gave her permission.

"Yeah, but now it'll be all the sweeter to finally live together." Dean reminded him, sitting up on the couch and patting the cushion beside him. Seamus sat down beside him, easily tucking in under Dean's arm as it wrapped around his shoulders. They looked around the room filled with boxes and sighed both with peace and exhaustion. "Yeah, okay, I admit. I don't want to unpack today."

"So what should we do today?" Dean asked.

It was Seamus' turn to smile like an idiot, "I have some ideas." Dean laughed at the smile and eagerly kissed him again. This was all that needed to be done right now. Everything else could wait.


	2. Morning

July 2000

A small beeping startled them awake. Dean's hand reached over and smacked the off button on the alarm clock, accidentally knocking it off the nightstand in the process. Seamus groaned and rolled over toward Dean, cuddling up to his chest, "Why was that even on?" He mumbled irritably.

"Because we have to go to work?" Dean said, but he didn't move to get out of bed. He just let his arm lay across Seamus and tried to slowly wake up.

"No we don't, it's Saturday." Seamus whined softly, scrunching his eyes up to avoid having to open them at all.

"No it isn't. It's Wednesday and you know it." Dean said with a little laugh.

"Goddammit." Seamus grunted irritably, forcing himself to sit up, pushing off of Dean's chest and rubbing his eyes. Dean threw his legs over the bed and stood, stretching with a grunt that forced its way out of his chest. He didn't notice Seamus watching him with a small smile. They quietly fell into their new morning routine. Seamus and Dean brushed their teeth in the bathroom, side by side, making silly faces at each other in the mirror. Seamus lightly bumped Dean's hip with his, but the tall man was still groggy enough to lose his center of gravity and nearly fell over. Seamus laughed so hard he spit toothpaste onto the mirror and sink. "It's not funny," Dean tried to say around a full mouth of paste. Seamus quickly rinsed out his mouth before he managed to make more of a mess. As soon as his mouth was clear he started laughing again as he left the bathroom. Dean rolled his eyes.

Seamus fussed about just down the hall in their room, trying to make out an outfit. He was an auror now, which meant he technically just had to wear plain wizard robes. But he couldn't help but be selective about the outfit he wore underneath his robes, as if anyone was ever going to notice or see it. Dean, meanwhile, was shaving in the bathroom. He knew that Seamus preferred him with a little scruff, but he hated it. He much preferred his skin to be smooth across his face. "You ain't using magic are ye?" Seamus asked from the room. He knew the answer, which is why he had asked it. "Of course not. You think a magic blade wouldn't cut me silly?" Dean said, repeating a running joke. Seamus always mocked his reluctance to use magic in his grooming habits. Seamus used magic to do just about everything, having been raised by his magic mother. But Dean tended to not use magic, but especially not when it came to his hair. It was hard enough to find a muggle who could cut his hair, he doubted any magic would do any better than his favorite barber.

Seamus finally finished dressing himself (only to put the robes on over) and peeked back into the small apartment bathroom. Dean was washing his face clean now, and so did not notice Seamus standing in the doorway. He popped his head back up from the sink and jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance. "Jeez, Shay, why do you have to do that?"

Seamus laughed, "Why not? C'mon, you're running behind. Get some clothes on."

"How odd, normally you're telling me to do the exact opposite." Dean teased as he nudged past him to the room.

"Oh hush," Seamus said from the hall, blushing a bit.

"You know, I'm hardly behind schedule. You're the one that takes forever to get dressed," Dean said as he popped in and out of the room, getting dressed in less than a minute. "Unlike you, I don't worry much about it."

Seamus stuck his tongue out like a child as he bumped down the hallway with Dean toward the rest of the apartment. "What d'you fancy today, Shay?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen. Without much discussion, Dean had become the one who was more likely to cook. It just seemed like a bad idea to let the one who was prone to explosions to handle a muggle stove.

"Surprise me," Seamus said lazily as he flopped onto the couch and flipped on the morning news. He was fascinated by the issues the muggle world faced.

Dean leaned into the open fridge, examining its meager contents. They'd only been living in the apartment for a couple of weeks, and they were in desperate need of another shopping trip. But there was still two eggs and two sausage links left at the bottom of the fridge. He quickly started up the frying pan as Seamus laughed in the living room. Dean glanced up, but couldn't see whatever it was on the telly that was cracking him up. "Did you know that we get an American channel on here?"

"How is that possible?" Dean asked, suddenly wondering if that would be an extra charge on the cable bill. He cracked the egg in the pan, and briefly reeled at the thought of a cable bill. He had bills to pay now. Somehow this was more alarming than the fact that they had access to an American channel.

"Yeah. They sound ridiculous."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure if they heard you talk they'd think you sound ridiculous." Dean teased mercilessly.

"Oh, y'know that isn't true."

"Whatever you want to tell yourself." Dean laughed, flipping the egg to make it over easy just like Seamus liked it. He threw a link of sausage in beside it in the pan. "Are you really just watching the channel so you can laugh at their accents?"

"Maybe."

"I take it there was nothing interesting on the news?"

"Same old same old. Politicians up to no good, the world in utter turmoil." Seamus called from the living room. Dean could hear him flipping through channels, bits of audio being cut off one after another. He had the attention span of a gnat, but Dean didn't mind. It kept things interesting.

"Oi, come and get your food." Dean called. Seamus appeared at his side in record time, like an overexcited puppy. Dean couldn't help but laugh as he dished the last of their food off onto a plate for him. "You're cute, you know that?"

"You say it often enough," Seamus said with a smile, briefly kissing his cheek before returning to his spot on the couch. He alway sat on the far right, and Dean always sat on the far left. When they watched together they usually sat with their legs intertwined somewhere in the middle. It was a little odd, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Dean sat down with him a few minutes later, laughing when he noticed that Seamus had managed to swallow his food in that time. He really was like a puppy in so many ways.

Seamus glanced at the clock that was on the wall just behind the TV and sighed, "See, we are behind schedule." The clock face read 7:57.

"Oh for the love of Pete." Dean said, swallowing his food as fast as Seamus usually did, burning his throat a bit.

"Who the hell is Pete?" Seamus said, sounding a bit too concerned.

"It's a muggle expression, Seamus. I don't know anyone named Pete, trust me." Dean said, trying to hide his amusement at Seamus' rush of jealousy.

Seamus just nodded, seeming a bit relieved, as he flicked the television off.

"You know, I don't know why you worry so much. It takes seconds to apparate." Dean said as he quickly put their dishes in the sink.

"Better early than late, as mum always says." Seamus said. Dean smiled to himself. Seamus always had a come back, without fail. He returned to Seamus' side and gave him a kiss, making it last a little longer than normal. "I love you. Send an owl if you have to stay late." Dean reminded him quietly. Seamus nodded, silently promising as he always did. The two said one last goodbye before disapparating at precisely 7:59 in the morning.


	3. Date

**A/N: Yes, I realize that this one is a day late. But, in my defense, I was baking all day and babysitting all night. But regardless, I was not expecting this one to go as well as it did, so I hope you all enjoy it!**

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August 1998

"Would you like to go to the Fortescue's with me?" Dean tried to ask casually as he walked around the streets with Seamus. Seamus had come to visit Dean and his family in London, and the two were taking a late night stroll after dinner.

"Right now?" Seamus asked, a bit puzzled.

"No, no. It's a bit late for that." He acknowledged, glancing at Big Ben in the distance. It was already ten o'clock at night. There was no way that Fortescue's was still open at this hour. "I was thinking we could go tomorrow perhaps, just the two of us?"

Seamus glanced up at his tall companion, "Dean Thomas, are you asking me out on a date?" He said in mock amusement and shock.

Dean's darker skin graciously hid his blush, the warmth that spread through the cells, "I — yes. Yes I am." He said a bit boldly.

Seamus too was growing warm, his cheeks flushing. Dean didn't notice. He was too nervous to look directly at Seamus. He was afraid of what Seamus might say. But he did not need to worry, "I would love to."

…

The two stepped into the small front in Diagon Alley. The war had hit Diagon Alley hard, and Florean Fortescue was no longer alive. Rumor was that Death Eaters had killed him. But his nephew took over the ownership of the shop, keeping the name in honor of his uncle's memory.

"Have you been here before?" Seamus asked politely as they stood in a long line that winded through the shop in a zig zag.

"Actually, no. When I went to Diagon Alley with my mum we were in and out in an hour. She has a tendency to get what she needs quickly and be done. Grocery shopping with a ton of kids kind of forces you to do that I suppose." Dean explained.

"Oh, you're going to love it." Seamus said with a knowing smile.

"How could I not? Everyone loves ice cream. Or, at least, everyone _should_."

"This probably isn't like muggle ice cream." Seamus said.

Dean craned his neck over the heads of the line and looked at the rows of ice cream. It certainly looked normal. The colors ranged from white to pink to blue to rainbow. It certainly didn't seem out of the ordinary. "I don't get it, what's so different about it?"

"Well, for starters, it's not always made of cow's milk."

"That's not that odd. My little sister is lactose intolerant, we have lactose-free ice cream. I think it's made from almonds? Or tofu. I don't know. I get it all mixed up."

Seamus laughed, "Well, some flavors are made of mooncalf milk, which is way sweeter than cow's milk. And it has some stranger properties."

"Like what?" Dean said nervously.

"You'll see." Seamus said as they strolled up to the front. The flavors were all quite odd, and reminded Dean of Bertie Bott's. The flavors ranged from the predictable vanilla to the strange Snargaluff. Dean played it safe and went for the mint chocolate chip, his favorite. But as they stepped back outside and sat across from each other at a little table on the patio, Dean noticed that the ice cream had morphed slightly. It was now bright pink and the chips were rainbow. Dean looked down at his cone with a puzzled expression, "Did they give me the wrong one and I just didn't notice?"

Seamus was laughing, "No, no. That's the mooncalf milk. It tends to make things change colors, depending on the lighting. It usually looks normal under artificial light, but it will look very odd in sunlight or moonlight."

"What would it look like at moonlight?"

"I dunno," Seamus shrugged, "I once had chocolate ice cream turn orange in moonlight."

"Why were you eating chocolate ice cream under moonlight?"

"Because I could and ice cream is good?"

"Well look at that, you're a poet and you didn't know it."

"Oh shut it, Thomas."

"Not a chance, Finnegan." He shot Seamus a wicked grin as he ate away at his incredibly flamboyant ice cream.

Seamus couldn't help but laugh. This was how his friendship with Dean worked. Things were fine and dandy, then they would play fight. It worked pretty well for them. "You know, I have to admit. I'm a little surprised you didn't want to take me over to Madam Puddifoot's."

Dean shook his head, remembering the little tea shop in Hogsmeade. "Oh god, no. That place is atrocious. I don't think anybody actually wants to go there. I know I didn't want to go in there third year, but I did."

"Hang on. Dean Thomas has actually been inside Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop? I haven't been in the place meself, but its reputation precedes it." Seamus explained hastily.

Dean's ears became incredibly hot. He had never told a soul about that day third year. It was too mortifying. He tried to prevent having to tell Seamus about it by suddenly becoming very preoccupied with his ice cream. "Why doesn't it melt?"

"Ice cream melts?"

"Of course ice cream melts! It's cold and gets warm. That's how it works." Dean said, somewhat shocked that Seamus didn't understand this.

"Oh, it's probably always under a spell then. I've never actually seen melted ice cream. The things muggles have to deal with. Can't even enjoy their ice cream." He said in dismay, before catching on. "Hey, don't try to change the subject. Tell me. What's this about you in the tea shop third year?"

Dean whined a bit before fessing up, "Alright. But you can't laugh."

"Oh, I probably will." Seamus assured him.

Dean sighed and continued, intermittently licking off bits of his ice cream, "Third year, Fay Dunbar had a big crush on me. Don't ask why, I have no idea. Anyway, out of nowhere, she cornered me after class and asked me out. It was really scary, actually. She kind of just yelled it at me, as if I couldn't say no. Frankly, I don't think I realized that I could say no. Anyway, she decided we had to go to Madam Puddifoot's and it was a total trainwreck. Everyone around us was much older, mostly sixth years. At least half of them were snogging over their tea and scones. And here I am, shaking in my boots, terrified that this girl is going to try and kiss me. Sure enough, she tried to. But I was so unwilling that I literally dodged out of the way. But I literally fell out of my chair in my effort to get away from her, and she fell forward. The table crashed, the chairs were all askew, and everyone in the whole joint was staring at us. I think I mumbled something like 'thanks for the tea' and ran away as fast as possible."

Seamus' face was priceless. Dean was going to have to remember it and draw it later. His mouth was agape, but the edges were curled up in an odd smile. "That was the time you mysteriously vanished off to Hogsmeade without us. You insisted you wanted to go alone! Neville and I were convinced you were up to no good, to be honest. But no! Just embarrassing yourself in a tea shop. Merlin's beard, I can just see it." He cracked up in a terrible fit of laughter. Many people at nearby tables and walking by in the alley turned and looked at him. But most of them just smiled in amusement. Seamus had a tendency to laugh a bit like a hyena when he found something incredibly funny.

Dean didn't really mind that he was laughing. It was so long ago now that he wasn't as embarrassed by it anymore. It was far funnier now than it had been at the time. "So, yeah, I wasn't about to willingly go back there."

"I can see why," Seamus said, a hand over his stomach. He was hardly full, but his laughter had been so hard it had left an aching pain in his muscles. But it was worth it. "You poor thing. I had no idea you went out with Fay Dunbar."

"Oh, believe me, that was the one and only time." Dean assured him. After the incident at the teashop, neither were able to look or speak to each other for the rest of the year. And even after that, they only interacted if they had to.

"Fair enough. So Ginny was your only real girlfriend?" Seamus asked, his light tone switching into something a bit more serious.

Dean nodded quietly. He was, by no means, still upset about Ginny. He just didn't like having to remember their many unpleasant times together. In hindsight, he really regretted ever agreeing to go out with her. "Did you ever date anyone at school?" Dean asked, trying to deflect attention away from his past relationship.

It was Seamus' turn to get flustered. "Yes, but it was never anything serious."

"Lavender, right?"

"Once or twice," Seamus became very quiet. Normally, Seamus was rather eager and jumpy. But every once in awhile, he darkened substantially. Dean could tell he was thinking of the war. Dean and Seamus had fought side by side that day. They had nearly stepped on Lavender's corpse. At the time, they registered it and moved on. But afterwards, Seamus had gotten sick at the memory of it. Dean knew very well that he didn't care much for Lavender at all, but it didn't really matter. Death was death, and Lavender had been one of the few whose death was personal to Seamus. Fred's death was the only other one that had shaken Seamus. He knew Lupin and Tonks, and he liked them enough, but he'd hardly spoken to them. Lavender and Fred had been his friends once.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up." Dean apologized, suddenly lodged with guilt at making the conversation veer into the war. They tried their best to avoid talking about it.

"It's alright." Seamus said, shaking his head a bit and sitting up straight. Their ice cream had long ago been finished without notice or fanfare. He smiled, albeit rather weakly, "There was one other person I went on a date with. Sixth year, when you were off with Ginny, I went out with Terry Boot."

"Not that Ravenclaw git!" Dean said, happy to talk about something else.

"How's he a git?"

"I don't know, he just is."

"You're only saying that because I went out with him."

"Okay, maybe, but he's still a git."

Seamus' smile became more natural. His regular joviality showing up again. "You're really jealous of Terry Boot?"

Dean shrugged, "I mean, I would have much preferred dating you sixth year than Ginny Weasley, if I'm being honest. So yeah, I'm a little jealous Terry Boot got to you first."

Seamus grinned widely, his silly heart hammering in his chest. "You actually … you liked me back then?"

"Of course I did. Not that I knew it. But I did."

"How could you not know it?"

"Well I thought I didn't like you. Hindsight is 20/20 as they say." Dean tried to explain. "I just figured we were really close friends. A good team. But I don't think I ever considered the alternative, or how strong my feelings were. Not until seventh year anyway." Dean cursed himself internally. He didn't want to get back to discussing that year. It had been a terrible year.

"Come again?" Seamus said, needing to hear more. They had never talked about this. They had been quietly flirting with each other for weeks. It was no surprise that Dean liked him, but he had no idea when that interest had started.

Dean sighed, but reluctantly told him, "Well, we had heard that there were terrible things happening at Hogwarts. I worried about all of you. Frankly, I was concerned Ginny was going to get herself killed. But I was mostly terrified about you. It wasn't until I realized that you could die without me ever knowing it that I felt —" He paused and took a deep breath. He looked up, finally able to look Seamus in the eye, "I had a nightmare. I dreamt I returned to Hogwarts but you were already dead. I woke up screaming. I couldn't be reasoned with at first. Ted tried to calm me down, afraid I was going to give our location away to anyone within hearing distance. But it didn't help. The fear of you dying kept me going. The time I spent cooped up at Bill's was terrible. Luna was able to keep me somewhat calm, reminding me that at least as of Christmas you were alive. But it took a lot of willpower to not jeopardize everything by running to Hogwarts to make sure you were okay."

Seamus' expression was solemn again, although there was a look in his eye that Dean couldn't quite interpret. He reached out and took Dean's hand in his, squeezing it tightly. He didn't need to say anything, his meaning was perfectly clear. The same way it had been perfectly clear when Dean had arrived in the Room of Requirement that fateful day and Seamus had launched himself into Dean's arms. They exchanged words silently, almost telepathically, through their gestures for years.

As they left Fortescue's, it was incredibly obvious to both of them that while this had been their first date it was hardly going to be their last.


	4. First

September 1998

Dean loved going to quidditch matches with Seamus, but he sometimes regretted it. They were sitting in the stands of a particularly exciting game. It was the Kestrels versus the Magpies, and naturally Dean and Seamus were sporting bright green for the Kestrels, Seamus' favorite Irish team. Seamus had even painted a letter 'K' on each cheek. Dean had politely declined from painting his face. He preferred to paint canvases, not faces. But he had not objected to painting Seamus' face for him.

The game had already begun, and both teams were playing their hearts out. The score was still tight, and as always, it was going to ultimately be down to the seekers to make the game interesting. There had been a couple of feints to trick the other team's seekers, but no actual hunt had started for it. One of the Magpie chasers was particularly tricky, and zoomed so fast past the stands that Dean and Seamus stood in that it knocked Seamus over. He got back to his feet, leaned over the rail a bit, and hollered some curses that could have melted his mother's ears. The chaser threw the quaffle straight for the right hand goal. "GET IT! GO ON. IT'S RIGHT THERE. IT'S A BIG DAMN BALL. CATCH IT!" Seamus yelled excitedly at his team. Luckily for him (and Dean's ears) the keeper got there in time to catch the quaffle and hand it to his chaser. Seamus cheered, but it was far less harsh on the ears than his screams of anger.

Dean was not as expressive in quidditch games. He was excited of course, and whistled and cheered right along seamus, but a good decibel lower. The Kestrels were blurs of green, flying exceptionally fast on their brand new Firebolt 3s. The Magpies on their old Nimbus 2000s had a hard time keeping up with them. But the team was incredibly adaptable, and despite the speed difference the two teams were squarely matched. The chasers weaved around the beaters, tossing the quaffle back and forth, and got it past the weak keeper. But it would seem the Magpies did this intentionally, as the next time the Kestrels got the quaffle the beaters practically slaughtered them. They rode their tales and beat the bludger from one chaser to the next, even able to knock the quaffle from one's hands for a chaser below to catch. Their strategy seemed to match the speed of the Kestrels. The entire time, Seamus was shouting incoherently. He had a butterbeer and a firewhiskey during the break in the middle of the game, and his cussing only got worse. On top of that, his accent had thickened and he had started using his old Irish slang he rarely used.

But Dean couldn't really blame him for his excitement. This was his favorite team, and Dean reacted in just the same way when he was watching a West Ham game. No man was totally sane when he was watching his favorite team play his favorite game. Dean felt a bit guilty for not being as enthused, as he could see the look of mild disappointment in Seamus' eyes when he would turn to see how Dean had reacted to a play. He could tell that his lack of big reactions was dampening Seamus' mood. So he drank his firewhiskey he hadn't finished, chugging it down quickly. He made himself more excited. He genuinely wanted the Kestrels to win, but more for Seamus' benefit than his own. He loved quidditch, truly, but Seamus knew that the Kestrels were no his favorite quidditch team. That title belonged to the Puddlemere United. He had been so intrigued by the sport when he started school, and he had been a big fan of Oliver Wood and had been loyal to him when he joined the professional leagues.

The Kestrels seeker suddenly bulleted down toward the pitch. Despite the fact that he had done this earlier in the game as a feint, Dean and Seamus were still immediately on their toes. "Ye think he seen it?" Seamus said, his proper English gone with the alcohol. "Or d'ye think he's feintin'?"

"Look! I saw it! A lil bit of gold." Dean said, pointing in the general direction of where he had spotted the snitch that the seeker was looking out for.

"If he catches it they win!" Seamus said after glancing at the scoreboard.

"GO! GET IT!" Dean shouted excitedly, actually finding himself genuinely pumped. Seamus had glanced at him and grinned, happy to see that Dean was so into it now. He took Dean's hand in his, holding it tight as the two cheered. The Magpie seeker had take notice of course, and tried to beat the Kestrel seeker to the snitch. But the Firebolt 3 was far too fast, and the Kestrel seeker grabbed at the snitch. The stands erupted in cheers, so loud that Dean couldn't even hear his own screaming, nor Seamus' hollering. Seamus let go of Dean's hand and launched at him in a heavy hug. Dean laughed and held him close.

Then, suddenly, Seamus had pulled back and kissed Dean's lips, standing on his tip toes. Dean was taken by surprise. Despite having dated for a few weeks now, they still had not had their first kiss. He hadn't wanted to push it, so even though he had wanted to kiss him before he had stopped himself. He assumed that when Seamus was comfortable with it, he would tell him. But here Dean was, with his boyfriend's lips against his. He kept his arms tight around Seamus and pulled him a bit closer, kissing back with more bravery than he actually felt. The kiss that had started as a wild exultation of joy on Seamus' part turned into something else. The world around them slowly muted, despite how raucous the crowd was. They failed to notice that after several minutes the crowd had started to disperse. The people at the end of their row had to walk past them, some of them whooping for them. But they still did not notice.

It was when the last person heading out of their row tripped over Seamus' foot, making his fall back to his heels, that they finally snapped out of it. The woman who had tripped over them quietly apologized before heading for the stand exit. Seamus looked up at Dean, his cheeks flushed bright red. Was it from the alcohol, embarrassment, or delight? Was it all three?

"I'm sorry, I couldn't wait no more." Seamus admitted.

Dean laughed a little, his smile ridiculously cute in Seamus' eyes, "Don't apologize. I would have sooner, but I didn't want you to feel rushed."

"Your bloody crazy. Don't you know? I've wanted to kiss you for years." Seamus admitted.

Dean tilted his head in confusion, "What? You failed to mention that before?"

"Did I? I thought I had." Seamus said, finally noticing how the stadium was emptying. He took Dean's hand in his and guided them toward the exit.

"No, you definitely didn't mention this. When did you first…?"

"Fifth year, in the DA." Seamus said frankly, easily able to remember the moment. "When we would practice together. It was the look of pure joy on your face when I cast my first corporeal patronus that I realized that I didn't want you as just a friend. But — I knew that you didn't feel the same. So I didn't say anything." Seamus explained as they headed down the stairs quickly. They stepped out of the stadium toward the Apparition points. Seamus headed for the nearest one but Dean stood still, gently tugging on Seamus' hand to stop him. "What's wrong?" He asked curiously, turning back to Dean. Dean leaned down to kiss him once more. This one was far more gentle, less passionate, but no less enjoyable. "Nothing at all. Just wanted one more kiss."

* * *

 _A/N: I apologize that this one is so short. I'll be totally honest, I am horrible at writing sports sequences (90% of muggle sports are not my cup of tea) so I struggled a bit with the Quidditch scene! Also, I wasn't sure whether or not to capitalize the Quidditch terms - so if it bothers you, forgive me. And yes, this one was called "first" and this did not mean the first time they were intimate. If you, my dutiful reader who has bothered to read this, wants said M rated chapter, let me know and I will make it a separate one-shot outside of this particular listing._


	5. Cooking

December 2003

Dean and Seamus sat cross legged, facing each other on opposite ends of the sofa. Both were quickly flipping through various magazines and large books. They were on the hunt for a recipe.

It was the winter holidays, and Christmas was fast approaching. Now that Dean and Seamus owned a lovely little house together, they both desperately wanted to have a holiday gathering. Their apartment had been far too small to have guests, but now they lived in a humble abode in the farm country of Essex. It was far enough away from muggles and was under the same charm most wizard homes had to trick muggles into thinking nothing was there. A muggle might have stood at the end of their property, looked in, and seen nothing but some old boots lying around or a pile of old bricks. But when a wizard appeared they would see a small cottage surrounded by fields. A small, presently unused, barn stood toward the back of their property. Underneath a layer of snow was a garden plot just behind their home where they were planning on growing some veg and fruit in the spring and summer.

The home was nothing fancy, they hadn't needed anything fancy after all. The front door opened into a tiny foyer with a set of stairs that lead up to the upstairs bedrooms (which were currently a guest room, an office, and an art studio). To the right was their living room where they were sprawled over recipes. Just behind the couch they sat in was the dining room. They had bought a massive dining table, with room for twelve seats. In closed room just off the dining room was their kitchen, with brand new pots and pans. They had used Dean's family's old pans in their apartment, and it was about time that they bought themselves brand new kitchen supplies. It had made them both feel incredibly old and mature to be buying themselves things like a blender and a stand mixer. They had told themselves they needed all of it because now that they had the space to have their friends over. And that was precisely what they were going to do for the holidays. They were going to spend Christmas Eve at with Dean's family, Christmas Eve night with Seamus' family. But Christmas day they had agreed to have their friends come over.

"So, here's a question," Seamus said as he flipped through the magazine in his lap, "Sprouts or no sprouts?"

"No goddamn sprouts." Dean said, making it clear it was not up for debate. Seamus smiled to himself. He hated sprouts too, and was glad they were in agreement on it. "I don't really want to follow a traditional meal, I guess. Aside from turkey. That part is fine. But the rest — I don't know, I would kind of enjoy improvising it."

"Anything you've got in mind?" Seamus asked curiously, bookmarking a recipe he liked.

Dean passed him the cookbook he had, tapping the page, "It's not terribly glamorous, but I think this could work. And maybe this?" He pointed to the opposite page.

Seamus gestured toward his page in the magazine, "I like all of those. But promise me we can stick with this one other tradition?"

Dean grinned, "Of course."

Dean reached for the onion and took out the chopping knife. Seamus quietly pointed his wand at the onion and muttered a spell under his breath. Dean looked up at him, "What was that for? Is this going to explode now?"

"No, it just stops it from making you cry."

Dean laughed in surprise, "Magic!"

Seamus chuckled softly. Even after years and years of being in the wizarding world, Dean was still amazed by the wonders of magic from time to time.

Dean sliced away at the onion, the carrots, and the celery while Seamus cubed the potatoes. The kitchen was small, and the two repeatedly ran into each other as they scurried about the kitchen preparing their Christmas dinner. It was nine in the morning, and Seamus was only functioning thanks two two large mugs of black coffee. Seamus slipped the potatoes into the oven, putting a pan of crostini in just below. Dean was working right alongside the oven, in the midst of stuffing the turkey with his chopped vegetables and seasonings. Seamus stood beside him and laughed, "Never thought I'd see you fist a turkey." He teased jovially. Dean's eyes darted over at him, his hand indeed shoved inside of the turkey, "Would _you_ rather be fisting the turkey?"

"Can't say I would."

"Then shut it, ye git." Dean teased him.

Seamus stood on his toes and kissed Dean's cheek, "Shush, you love me."

"I do, but that doesn't make you less of a git." Dean said, trying to suppress a laugh.

Seamus left him alone long enough to get the crostini out of the oven, as it cooked rather quickly, and started prepping them with the tomato topping. Dean finished up the turkey and turned toward the sink to wash off the butter and onion stench on his hands. He turned to Seamus as he dried his hands on a towel, "Are the potatoes nearly done."

Seamus glanced at the timer by the stove, "Just another ten minutes. Be patient." He said, knowing that Dean was impatient to get the turkey into the fire.

Dean walked over to Seamus, who was hunched over and finishing off the last of the little bits of bread. Dean quietly rested a hand on Seamus' hip. The man's face flushed bright red and he stood up straight quickly. "What're you up to?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder at Dean with a brow raised.

Dean kissed sweetly along his neck and whispered, "Passing time is all."

Seamus plopped the crostini on a small platter and pulled away from Dean long enough to put them on the dining room table.

"What, do I need mistletoe?" Dean said, pouting a bit.

He didn't say anything, at first. He just walked back toward Dean, sitting up on the ledge of the counter where his food had been a minute ago. "No, no mistletoe." Seamus said politely, taking Dean's hands in his and pulling him close. The counter helped give him enough leverage that he didn't have to crick his neck just to kiss his boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, kissing him sweetly. The timer dinged shortly thereafter, and it took a lot of convincing for Seamus to take the food out. He didn't want to pull away, he never did. He could have spent the rest of his life with his arms around Dean. But today was not one of those remarkable lazy days where they could spend all their time snogging, it was Christmas and they were expecting their friends in a few hours.

Dean put the bird in the oven, Seamus set the table. The whole debacle seemed to have so little to do with the meal itself. It was an opportunity to relentlessly flirt, steal kisses, and make inappropriate jokes. They both agreed they had to make meals together more often.

After ages of half-working, half-flirting, the table was ready. The kitchen was an absolute disaster. Dean, yet again, was grateful for the convenience of magic and cast a scourgify spell just as the first knock came at the door. "Would you get that, dear?" Seamus asked, as he was a bit preoccupied with setting the Christmas pudding aflame.

Dean felt a thrill down his spine at the pet name. It wasn't as if it was the first time Seamus had called him by a name like "dear" or "sweetheart", but it felt particularly meaningful now. They were a real couple. They had their own house, their own meals they made together, their pet names for one another. _And to top it all off_ , Dean thought as he opened the door, _the best friends we could ever ask for_.

"Gang's all here, eh?" Dean said with a wide smile as he saw his friends piled on his doorstep, eagerly awaiting a Christmas dinner with them.

* * *

 _A/N: This one was a bit of a struggle for me, so it might change later. Also, I apologize for cultural inaccuracies, as I am not British (damn)._


	6. Television

Mid-October 2000

 _P-P-POP-P-P-POP-P-P-POP_

Seamus tugged on his flannel pyjamas and plopped onto the living room couch, pulling the zebra print blanket off the back of it and draping it over his lap. The rain was pelting the windows, but he had put a charm on the windows so that it didn't make too much noise. However, he could not make the popcorn pop any quieter. But it would be worth it.

"Hurry, it'll be on any minute now!" Seamus called toward the kitchen as he picked up the remote and flicked the TV on. They had splurged a little bit on the telly, getting the kind that didn't even have knobs on the side but instead small little buttons just in case the remote got lost (which it did quite often). It was Seamus favorite electronic device. It was an RCA, 27" inch piece of wonder.

"I can't make it pop any faster." Dean reminded him. Seamus whined loudly in response. "Do you wanna make it then?" Dean asked just as he was taking the pot off the stove burner.

"Y'know I'd burn them." Seamus mumbled with a baby-like pout.

"Which is why I make it. So you'll quit complaining about how long it takes. It's better this way anyway, and you know it." Dean said as he headed into the living room with the giant bowl filled with tons of buttery popcorn. He pulled the blanket onto his lap as well and put the popcorn in between them as they snuggled up next to each other.

Just in time, Channel 4 lit up with the show, starting just on the hour. Dean and Seamus ate away at the popcorn as they watched the screen. They both furrowed their brows in confusion. This was certainly not the kind of opening scene the show had used the past couple weeks since they had started watching it. A friar ran to another with subtitles translating their French dialogue below. "What the bloody hell? Did they cancel the show already? What is this?" Seamus asked irritably as the friars discussed grapes. But they were both relieved when the familiar discordant tones of the theme song came through and the fuzzy images of their intro came onto screen. "Merlin's beard that was weird."

"I'm sure it'll have something to do with the plot later." Dean assured him.

"Shhh!" Seamus asconded as she shovelled popcorn into his mouth. Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, but Seamus didn't notice. He always did that. He would gab about something in the show, but if Dean tried to reply it was constituted as interrupting. But Dean could look past it. They watched on in quiet, save for the repeated laughs that occurred at the gags in the show: the long haired man, the creepy cleaner from "Anall cleaners", and the crack about eating eggs with a comb in a shoe. Seamus had happened upon the show a few weeks ago and had just about died laughing over it. They managed to finish eating the popcorn by the first commercial break.

" _Accio_ ," Dean said patiently as he called the spare bowl of popcorn from the kitchen. He always made one bowl for the first half and another for after the commercial.

"D'you think that Bernard actually likes Fran? I know she's dating around and all, but I get that vibe." Seamus asked as he automatically reached for more of the popcorn. Dean swatted his hand. "Not until the show's back on. And yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. But they probably won't do anything with it."

"Y'think so?"

"Yeah. That's not the kind of show this is." Dean said as the adverts flicked by without either of them paying much attention to them.

"Y'reckon her date's gay?" Seamus said casually.

"Definitely. I'm assuming that's going to be the joke." Dean said with a little smile. "But, go ahead, spoil it."

"I'm not spoiling, I'm just guessing." Seamus said plainly, again reaching for the popcorn and getting his hands swatted. The show popped back on. "Ah, I see. That's why they had the introduction. The grapes became this wine. This … really expensive … really old wine that these wankers are drinking." He cracked up into a fit of giggles. Dean couldn't help but laugh with him. He loved this show. Most of the comedies they watched together were only okay. He could watch them and be amused, but they didn't necessarily make him laugh. This one had him bursting out loud with laughter pretty easily.

"Oh he's definitely gay. But nobody is that obvious about it really." Seamus laughed, "Bit predictable really. I don't bloody say 'fabulous' and neither do you."

Dean just laughed instead of replying, not wanting to "interrupt". He went to grab a handful of popcorn and realized it was already a third empty again. Seamus could eat popcorn by the barrell full, Dean was convinced.

The show ended and the two briefly discussed it, but Seamus was still hung up on the gay character. "So gay men like bad music and say words like 'fabulous'?"

"So I've been told." Dean laughed, "I've also heard that we're supposed to talk in really annoyingly high pitched voices." Dean said, adding a stereotypical twang to his words. Seamus giggled fitfully beside him. "I might have to kill you if you always talked like that." He admitted. It was rather annoying. "What else are we 'supposed' to be like?" Seamus asked curiously.

"Effeminate."

"Bless you,"

"No," Dean laughed loudly, "It means we act like girls."

Seamus laughed, "How ridiculous. I mean, you can be girly from time to time with those long eyelashes of yours and your tendency to cook and clean like a little housewife."

"Oh can it, I'm not even as gay as you are!" Dean teased, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and kissing his cheek.

Seamus shrugged, "I suppose this is true. I mean, I've actually dated another man before and you haven't. Do you actually like women too?" He asked as if he was asking how long it would keep on raining.

Dean hummed in thought. He had been interested in Ginny when they started dating late fifth year. He was not against the idea of physical intimacy with women, the same way he had no issues of thinking of physical intimacy with men. "I suppose I do. Yeah." He decided.

"Huh, odd."

"Why? I suppose you don't?"

"Oh, no, not at all." Seamus said with a bit of a shudder. He moved so that he wasn't under Dean's chin, and turned to face him. "The thought of a va — no, no, gross." He couldn't even spit out the word 'vagina' without getting grossed out at the mental image. Dean couldn't help but laugh, "You're such a baby. It's not like saying Voldemort. You can say vagina without dying. Go ahead, try and say it."

Seamus stuttered over it, "V-v-v-v-"

"Shay, c'mon."

Seamus coughed loudly and mumbled under his breath, "Vagina."

Dean laughed again, going into a fit of giggles. "You're ridiculous."

"No, you're ridiculous. How can vaginas not gross you out?"

"I don't know, they just don't. It's just a body part. Did you know women actually have better orgasms than men?" He may have gotten stuck in a dentist's clinic over the summer and been unable to find anything more interesting than a copy of the Cosmopolitan. There had been a whole article on facts about vaginas. Dean truly wasn't bothered by body parts. He had sketched enough nude images in his life to know that it really was all anatomy. Sure, bits and pieces were for sexual arousal, but what of it?

But Seamus seemed utterly shocked by this statement. "W-what?"

"Yeah, I know. Surprising, isn't it?"

"I — d-did you and Ginny…?"

Dean looked at him with a puzzled expression, trying to understand how it was that Seamus had come upon such a question. And then it dawned on him that his random fact might have sounded like it came from experience. "Oh! Christ, no."

"Who's Christ?" Seamus asked, sounding more offended.

Dean tried really hard not to laugh, "Uh, long story. I just said it as a curse. Sorry. I don't know anyone named Christ." Again, it took a good amount of control to not laugh.

"But you didn't — ?"

"No, I promise you." Dean assured him. He wasn't about to say that he had wanted to at the time, but had not pressed on the matter. Which was all for the better.

Seamus breathed a small sigh of relief. But his cheeks were turning a bit red, "So — I never asked, but — was I your first?"

Dean smiled warmly, leaning forward and kissing Seamus lovingly for a few moments before pulling back long enough to tell him, "Yes. And I wouldn't change that for the world."

Seamus returned the kiss and when he looked back up at Dean he had a familiar expression on his face. But before they could continue in their play Dean just had to ask, "And what about you? Your first?" Dean assumed he knew the answer, but wanted to ask it anyway.

Seamus blush deepened, "Um, well — it wasn't you, unfortunately."

"You act like that should surprise me." Dean said with a small smile. "I kind of just assumed that first night that you had some experience."

Seamus was a bit relieved that Dean was not upset with him. "Well, you assumed correctly. But you might still be mad at me for who it was with."

"Boot?"

"How'd you know?"

"Process of elimination. You dated Lavender briefly, but you're gay. The only boy you dated was Terry. Makes sense to me." Dean said reasonably.

"Fair enough. Add in that I was madly jealous that you were off with Ginny all of the time and I did really stupid things. Dating and … lying with Terry was one of them."

"Was he that bad?"

Seamus made a face of mild disgust, setting Dean into a fit of laughter. "Trust me, you're leagues ahead of Terry Boot." This made Dean beam a little bit. He knew that he was fine, but it was rewarding to know that he was far better than Seamus' last. "Now, can we stop talking about it and just …" Seamus started to say, leaving Dean to add, "Do it?" Seamus nodded and they both leaned in at the same time to kiss each other.

* * *

 _A/N: This kind of evolved into an odd discussion between our boys that had little to do with television, but frankly I enjoyed the conversation too much to cut it. Also, brownie points for anyone that knows what TV show they were watching (without googling it). :)_


	7. Pet

May 2004

Dean walked toward their home from the apparition site on the corner of the property. He yawned a bit to himself as he stepped through the front door. Work had been rather dull lately. He had to do a lot more formatting of the Daily Prophet than actual artwork now and it was getting a bit tiresome. But his boredom-induced tiredness quickly dissipated when he walked into his house. A dog ran up to him as he opened the door and jumped up onto him. Dean yelled in surprise and lost his balance, falling and landing hard on his bum. The dog scrambled up and started licking at his face. Dean pushed it away from him, "Off, off!"

Seamus came tearing around the corner from the living room, "Oi! Peanut, come." He shouted at the dog. The dog whined and ran over to Seamus who bent down and booped its nose with his index finger, "No jumping." The dog, apparently named Peanut, just licked Seamus' face in response. Seamus smiled, "Oh, you're too cute to get mad at." He ruffled the dog's fluffy brown head as Dean got back on his feet.

"Shay," He said cautiously as he watched the dog, "What the hell is that?"

"It's called a dog, Dean. Her name's Peanut." Seamus said calmly, still enraptured with the big, fluffy, golden mutt. "And she's such a good girl, yes she is." He said in a cooing baby voice to Peanut who was wagging her tail with joy.

"I know it's a bloody dog, but why is it in our house? Why do you know it's name? Seamus what did you do?" Dean said, getting more and more panicked.

Seamus finally looked up at Dean and walked away from the dog and toward Dean, "She was wandering around, covered in muck. So I brought her in and cleaned her off. I thought we could keep her. I always wanted a dog. Mum's allergic so we could never have one. Did you have a dog growing up?"

"No, and I don't know the first thing about taking care of one. And neither do you. I don't think we should take her in." Dean said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Her name's Peanut, and she already knows some commands. We wouldn't have to train her too much, I don't think. She's a couple years old." Seamus tried to reason, hoping that Dean wasn't going to give up so easily. He whistled for Peanut and she ran over. "See, watch. Peanut," She looked up at Seamus expectantly, her tail still wagging all over the place, "Sit." She plopped down on her hindquarters without hesitation. "Peanut, lie down." She flopped down onto her belly. "See! She's a good girl. Aren't you?" She wagged her silly tail in reply.

Dean watched the dog patiently. She had this odd face that made her look like she was perpetually smiling at them, and he couldn't help but suspect that she actually was. He didn't want to admit it, but she was a really cute dog. "But she's going to need a collar, tags, a leash, a bed, she's going to cost a lot."

"Oh, you know we can afford all that."

"Sure, if we could buy it in Diagon Alley — which we can't. Most wizards don't own dogs, Seamus. They usually go for owls." Dean said with thick sarcasm.

"We can get an owl too, if you like. But I want Peanut." Seamus said stubbornly. "We can go get some galleons converted and buy her things in town. No big deal."

Dean looked from Seamus to Peanut and back again. They were both giving him puppy dog eyes. "Fine." He relented. Seamus cheered and excited Peanut into barking. "But you're the one getting all of her things and taking care of her, understand?"

"I'll get her everything she needs right now then." Seamus said delightedly, stepping around Dean toward the door "I know you're going to try and resist, but you're going to fall in love with her." He assured him before letting the door close behind him, heading toward the apparition point that Dean had just come from fifteen minutes ago.

Dean looked down at the dog. The dog looked right back. She seemed to act too much like a human. "You're not an animagus are you? Not some barmy Death Eater trying to get information out of us?" He asked accusatorily. Peanut just thumped that stupid tail against the hardwood floor. He pulled his wand out of his back pocket and muttered, " _Homenum Revelio_ " as he waved the wand across the room. Nothing happened. Peanut was not an animagus. Dean assuaged any other paranoid ideas that the dog presented some other kind of threat. He was pretty sure this was just a silly old dog that wanted nothing more than to jump all over Dean and lick his face. "Listen, dog, we need to establish some ground rules." He said, pointing at her as if he was giving a lecture, "You absolutely cannot lick my face, you do not jump on people, you do not jump on my bed, you do not jump on my couch, you do not eat my food, and you do not piss on my floor. Understood?" Remarkably, Peanut barked. He had to think this meant that on some level she knew what he meant — kind of.

"Well," Dean said, "Good. I'm gonna … go now." He said, taking big steps around the dog. He didn't want to admit it to Seamus, but he actually loved dogs. However, he had never had such a frightening introduction to one. Perhaps if someone had sent an owl to the Prophet about this, he might not have been as startled when he was mauled by a dog upon returning home. But he had been the one that had been cheap and gone against buying an owl every year. Now he was really regretting it. An owl certainly cost less than a dog, that was for sure. They could at least eat their own food and wouldn't need giant bags of kibble. Given how big this thing was, he knew she'd be putting a dent in their wallets for some time. _How long do dogs usually live?_ Dean asked himself as he wandered into the kitchen. The stress was making him desperately desire a butterbeer.

He grabbed himself a cold one from the fridge and turned around and nearly stepped on Peanut's paws. He looked down at her and realized she had been following him. "What do you want? I haven't got anything for you." He said bitterly as she stepped around her and went to the living room, flopping on the couch and turning on the telly. Peanut hopped up on the couch next to him. "What did I just get done telling you? No getting on my couch." He said, slowly edging her off the couch. He hadn't actually touched her until just then, and he vaguely registered that her fur was ridiculously soft. Seamus probably wasted the good shampoo on her. She begrudgingly got off the couch, but nevertheless sat right by Dean's legs. He glared at the back of her head but decided not to yell at her as he sipped his butterbeer and turned on the muggle news. But he couldn't shake Peanut's presence as she kept leaning into his leg. He sighed to himself and finally reached out with his hand and gently pet the top of her head.

Her head whipped around and she opened her mouth, her tongue lolling out as she looked over at Dean. His hand pulled back, nervous she would bite or lick him. He wasn't sure what to expect from this dog at any given time. But when she didn't do anything except stare at him, he slowly reached out again and scratched between her ears. That tail of hers went at it again. He had always been jealous of people who had dogs when he was growing up, but he had had little experience with them. He knew that his cousins had a dog, but he had met her once over the holidays his third year and then by the next year the poor dog had died. A few neighbors had them, but he only greeted them in passing if they ran across each other on a walk. He had pet a dog, sure, but he had never spent longer than fifteen minutes with one, until now.

But Peanut did not look all that ferocious as he pet her. If anything, she seemed to be enjoying the attention. Dean would pull his hand away, ready to lean back and pay attention to the news and she would whine and lean against him some more so that he would return to petting her. Just as he was getting used to her, the door swung open as Seamus returned and she bolted for him. "No jumping," Seamus warned as her nails clacked on the hardwood floor toward him. She dutifully did not try to jump on him. "Good girl." He said, tossing her a biscuit he had put in his pocket just for this reason. Dean stood and walked over and saw Seamus was transporting all of the dog supplies with the hovering charm. Dean reached out and pulled down the folded up dog crate, releasing it from the magic. He walked over toward the space between the couch and the dining room table and unfolded the crate here. This was as good a place as any. Seamus unloaded the rest of the supplies, putting a plush dog bed in the corner of the living room by the telly stand and the dog bowls in the corner of the kitchen.

"How was she?" Seamus asked curiously as he filled the bowls for her. The bag of food was almost as big as the dog.

"Fine, I guess." Dean said, not willing to admit he had liked petting her and liked her general company. He still wasn't sure about the dog.

Seamus pulled a big stuffed bunny out of the bag of supplies and held it up to Peanut who had been following him. She immediately recognized it as the toy it was and gently took it in her mouth. Seamus let go of it and the dog proceeded to shake it violently around. Seamus laughed, "She's so cute."

"Yes, if that was a real bunny it'd be gushing blood and squealing in terror until its neck broke." Dean said flatly, "But sure, it's cute."

"Oh, give it a rest." Seamus waved him off as he tossed something toward Dean. He caught it and looked down at a little black collar dotted with rainbow hearts. A little four leaf clover tag hung from it that read: PEANUT. "Go on, put it on her." Seamus said. Dean looked at him, not sure what to do. "Tell her to come over." Seamus said simply. Clearly he was going to have to train Dean more than he would have to train Peanut. Dean looked at the dog nervously before saying, "Peanut. Come." The dog looked up and ran over to him, the toy still in his mouth. "Sit." He said, trying to sound calm and certain. Peanut sat. Dean knelt in front of the dog and she dropped the toy, panting with her dumb tongue falling out of her mouth again. He reached out and wrapped the collar around her neck, clasping it shut with the buckle in the back. "Good girl." He murmured, scratching between her ears again.

"See, I told you you'd love her." Seamus said from where he was observing from the kitchen.

"Shut up, ye git." Dean said, walking away from the dog before he could actually fall in love with her. She was growing on him, but he wasn't completely used to her yet.

* * *

August 2004

Peanut stood at the foot of the bed. It was six in the morning and the sun had already risen. She waited to see if either of her owners was going to stir. They didn't. Seamus let out a snore. Peanut barked loudly. Dean immediately sat up, "Shhhh." He groaned as he swung his lead out of bed and put on his slippers. Seamus was still asleep. He had grown deaf to the sound of Peanut barking at them every morning. Peanut followed behind Dean as he walked downstairs and headed out the front door. "Go on, go pee." He yawned as she wandered off around the yard. She had picked a spot over by the fence. It was probably never going to grow grass properly again, it was one of only two places where she liked to pee in big yard. But Dean didn't care. As long as she wasn't pissing on his tomatoes, he could make do.

When she'd finished her business, she'd trotted toward the front door. Dean was still in a zombie like state as he let her back into the house and followed behind. He sluggishly made his way to the kitchen and made himself some coffee, using his wand to speed up the process. Peanut followed him diligently, hoping for a treat. But she wouldn't get one. He settled down in his spot on the couch and she hopped up and curled up beside him. He sipped his coffee slowly as he blearily tried to absorb the news, his arm around the dog, absentmindedly petting her. Once the coffee had woken him up properly, he sauntered off to his room to change and woke Seamus up as well. Peanut was waiting patiently by her food bowl as Seamus headed down. He poured some food into her bowl for her as he started his morning.

Dean came back down, fully dressed and fully awake, and opened the window in the living room just as their barn owl, Bernard, swooped in and landed on the window sill. Dean unwrapped the Daily Prophet from his ankle, along with a couple of letters. He flew out the window, likely to go up in his nest in the oak tree in the backyard. He handed Seamus the mail and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you later. Love you."

"Love you too," Seamus said, stifling a yawn.

Peanut ran up to Dean as he headed for the door. He knelt and kissed her on the head, ruffling her fur around the ears, "I love you too." She licked his cheek and he couldn't help but laugh.


	8. Dancing

February 14th 2001

"So, I got you something a little … different this year." Seamus said, sitting down in Dean's lap on the couch. Dean looped an arm around his waist, a playful smile on his face, "Ooh, sounds intriguing." He made a suggestive expression. Seamus rolled his eyes, "No, nothing like that. Keep it in your pants." No, that sort of behavior would come later in the evening. "I booked us for a class."

"What?" Dean said, his cocky expression quickly morphing into bewilderment.

Seamus nodded, "This Saturday, you and I are going to learn how to ballroom dance."

Dean chuckled, "Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." Seamus said, using the muggle phrase he had picked up.

"Why do we need to learn to ballroom dance?" Dean asked suspiciously, wondering if this was supposed to be some convoluted way of him asking to marry him. If so, Dean couldn't help but think it was a little early for that, given that they hadn't been together for three years yet.

"Because it's fun? I've always wanted to learn to dance. Besides, it's supposed to be a romantic thing, and I want to be cheesy and act like we're in a bad romantic novel."

"Oh we act like that already. You're so hopelessly romantic it's kind of inevitable that we act like a walking talking chick lit book." Dean teased, leaning up to kiss his boyfriend. It was always funny to him when he was the one that had to look up for a kiss. After a few moments Dean pulled back, "That reminds me, though. I've forgot to give you _your_ gift." He gestured for Seamus to move and scrambled to their bedroom to retrieve the gift where he had hidden it in the closet. He came back and sat in front of Seamus, holding a small red box. He started to speak, but decided against it and simply handed Seamus the square box.

He slowly popped the lid off the box. Inside the box lay a smooth necklace chain with a silver trinity spiral charm dangling from it. He ran a thumb over the small symbol, a smile curving his lips. "It's beautiful." He murmured.

"Much like the Irishman it belongs to." Dean said fondly, reaching out and removing the necklace from the box, latching it around Seamus' neck for him. The chain was thick and fell down his chest, the trinity spiral square in the middle of his torso. But the trinket was quickly forgotten about when Seamus yanked Dean toward him and thanked him with a heavy kiss.

The two stepped shyly into the large, hardwood studio. The mirrors on every wall didn't really help matters of anxiety either. The room was filled with other couples, almost all of them straight couples. A few glanced at them oddly. Dean reached out and held Seamus' hand tightly. There was one pair of women who cast them a small (perhaps reassuring?) smile towards them. In the wizarding community, it was not exactly uncommon to find same sex pairings, and nobody particularly cared one way or another. The wizarding community cared far more about blood status (although this had been changing recently) than they did about homosexuality. But Dean remembered, as they waited for the instructor to arrive, that the muggle world cared far more about such foolish things. Dean's family didn't mind, and Seamus' mother wasn't terribly upset either. But these strangers seemed to be looking at them like they were either curious creatures or terrible monsters.

Finally, the instructor entered — a tall, grey haired, slim woman. She looked like she could be a ballerina grandmother. Perhaps she was. The room of couples all turned toward her, and Dean and Seamus were able to forget their nerves a little. "Welcome everyone. I'm happy to have you here today. Be aware that this is a 'crash course', as it were, in slow dancing. Do not expect to be experts after today's session. However, you should be able to dance your way through a wedding." She made a knowing smile as a few people smiled furtively. She was not disillusioned as to why most people took her classes. "If you would, however, like to learn more ballroom dances such as the tango, salsa, and others I do offer weekly classes. Please ask me after class if you are interested." After a moment of silence she clapped her hands together, "Now! Let's get started then, shall we?" At the sound a man entered the room and sidled up beside the teacher. He was evidently her husband, judging by the grey hair that matched her own and the wedding rings on both of their left hands. Dean absently wondered why he had entered separately. Was the instructor trying to make a dramatic entrance? Was her husband just shy?

"Alright, to start I want to be sure you all know how to do a basic step." She said loud and clear through the studio. How could such an old woman carry her voice so well? "Stand beside your partner, we'll get to the handling in a minute. Good, now stand with your feet apart. Shoulders length … very good. Yes. Now, do as I do." She said to her class of a dozen couples. She seemed to just tap her feet together. It was … not what Dean had expected. But he followed along. "Now this is called a simple touch step. Pretty simple, right? Right to left and left to right. Be sure not to dip your knee, and just let it bend naturally." Dean corrected himself, realizing he was putting a little too much flare into such a simple movement.

After a few minutes of the class doing this she announced, "Alright, now pair off." She stood beside her husband and modeled how her pupils ought to stand, "Ladies, hand on the shoulder. Men, hand just on the waist. You can either do this with both hands or hold hands with the opposite hands."

Dean looked shyly at Seamus, who returned the nervousness. Dean decided for them that he would lead, and held Seamus' hand in his left and put his right on his not-very-slim waist. Given how much shorter Seamus was to him, it just made sense that it worked this way. Seamus put his hand on Dean's shoulder as his cheeks and nose flushed red. "Now, repeat the same simple touch step I showed you. Men, lead your partner in a small circle if you're feeling up to it, using your position at their waist to navigate and guide them."

Dean and Seamus tentatively, carefully moved together. Simple steps to start. Dean carefully lead him about the room. He knew this. An old memory filtered to the surface of his mind of the Yule Ball. He had not danced like this since then, but he was starting to remember how to do it. He remembered, vaguely, dancing like this with Fay Dunbar. He had danced very poorly back then, his feet far too large for his still growing legs and body. But now that he was properly proportioned he was able to better balance himself and was able to carry himself better. He lead Seamus carefully, slowly bringing them about in a circle. It was a lot easier than he had expected. From that moment in, the rest of the class was far easier.

"Remember, eye contact is key. Don't look down at your toes." The teacher reminded.

They hardly needed such a reminder. While Seamus was a little less confident in his own footwork, having Dean as his partner gave him more faith in himself. With such maintained eye contact and the relatively close physical contact, it was easy to see why dances were used as a form of courting. It did not take long for them to become lost in each other.

February 22nd, 2001

Seamus struggled up the stairs of the apartment complex, stumbling through the door. He was completely exhausted. There had been a particularly difficult raid that day that had lasted hours with an old death eater who refused capture. It had been stressful, and though Seamus would not admit it — rather frightening. Killing curses were shot left and right. But in the end they were able to stop him and contain him, bringing him back to the ministry. But consequently, he was home later than he normally would have been. When he walked through the door he was immediately greeted by Dean, "All you alright?" He asked a bit anxiously.

"Yeah, 'm fine." Seamus said, a bit weakly.

"I sent an owl to the ministry when it was an hour after you would be home. They sent back straightaway that you were caught up in a raid. I got worried."

Seamus smiled a bit, "That's sweet of you, love. But really. It's okay. I'm alive, s'all that matters right?"

"Right." Dean agreed, "You hungry?"

"Famished."

An hour later, with a fully belly, Seamus was more or less collapsed on the couch beside his boyfriend, the TV absently showing something that neither of them were paying much attention to. Dean decided that Seamus needed some proper cheering up. Since he had come home, Seamus had been a bit sullen and quiet. He knew that he wasn't going to talk about whatever at work had upset him. Generally, it was against the rules anyway. Dean nudged Seamus a bit and stood up, offering a hand. Seamus gave him a curious look, but accepted the hand and allowed Dean to pull him up to his feet. Dean turned around and pushed the power button on the telly. He turned back to face Seamus, holding up his hand and putting his other hand on his waist.

"What're you…?"

"Shh," Dean hushed him gently, slowly starting to sway with Seamus. Seamus reluctantly let a smile come out as he followed along. Dean carefully lead them around the living room, expertly avoiding the furniture. There wasn't an ounce of music in the room, but it didn't matter. They spun about the room, unintentionally ending up closer to each other.

"I'm sorry you've had a rough day."

Seamus smiled up at him, "Thank you. I think this is just what I needed." It was only a matter of moments before they slowed to a stop and took a break from dancing to embrace each other instead.


	9. Tragedy

January 12th 2002

Seamus had not understood why Dean insisted on having a telephone. Every time it rang, it seemed, it was just a telemarketer. But Dean insisted that they needed it. While his family loved that he was a wizard, they did not like using owls to communicate. Primarily because it was a one way communication since they didn't have their own owl. If they wanted to tell Dean something, they had no way of doing it. Hence, the telephone. Since they bought it the week after they moved into the apartment, Seamus had made fun of it every time Dean answered the phone and got a telemarketer.

So when the phone rang on a bitterly cold day in January, Seamus was ready to crack a joke over as Dean went to answer it. Seamus perched on the edge of the couch in his lazy Saturday pyjamas, formulating a good one as Dean clicked the answer button on the phone and held it to his ear.

"Hullo?" He said, a tone of boredom as he expected the dulcet tones of a robot to answer.

"Dean?" His little sister Sami, who was not so little at fifteen now, said on the other end. "Is that you?"

"Yes, of course it is. What's wrong?" Her tone was worrying him, and his expression showed it. Seamus immediately knew by the look on his face that whatever was coming was not joke worthy.

"We're at the hospital. Alvie's …" She stopped and it was obvious she was stifling a sob, "He got hit by a c-car. Mum wants you to come as soon as you can."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. They won't tell us anything. We're just stuck in the waiting room." Sami explained patiently. "Just come. Please. We're all here. We need you Dean."

"I'll be there in a jiff." He said, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you too."

This was how they always said goodbye in his family. He hung up the phone and gave Seamus a serious look. "We need to head to the hospital. I'll explain on the way."

…

A middle aged woman, a twenty something Irishman, and five siblings ranging in ages of twelve to twenty two sat in the corner of the hospital waiting room. Seamus and Dean were both frustrated that they couldn't just heal Alvin with magic, but it was against their laws. If they had not witnessed the event itself, and if Alvie was treated by muggles first then they were not allowed to intervene. Dean had had to sadly whisper this to his mother and siblings who all anxiously thought that he could save their brother. Sami was curled up in a chair, trying to pretend it wasn't happening by knitting frantically. Dean's twelve year old sister, Zoe, was curled up in Dean's lap, asleep at the late hour. They had been sitting around for hours. Fourteen year old Bennie was passed out in his chair next to Sami. Dean, Sami, and Mia were the only of the "kids" awake. Mia, nineteen, was playing Tetris on her flip phone. Dean suspected that, like Sami, she was pretending it wasn't happening.

His mom had filled them in when they got there, "He was playing outside with Bennie and some boys from next door. Their ball rolled into the street and he ran out to get it right as a car whipped around the corner, going way too fast. Your father is on his way home, but he was working up in Glasgow, so it might take awhile for him to get here. They won't tell us Alvie's condition, no matter how much we beg." Her words had proved correct. In fact, Dean's father arrived in the hospital before they had heard a word from the doctor. It had taken him seven hours to drive down, and they still had nothing new to tell him.

It was around two in the morning when a nurse walked over to them. Dean and his parents were the only ones still awake and they jolted to their feet the minute the nurse shifted her eyes toward them and made the first step in their direction. Everyone else woke up alongside them and crowded the nurse. "Well?" Dean's father asked, a not-to-subtle tone of frustration in his voice.

The nurse glanced between the eight people surrounding her like a flock of sheep. She frowned and looked to the ground. Sami and Mia immediately gasped, understanding what the simple look meant. But nobody else would believe anything until she said it. "He didn't make it. I'm so sorry." The nurse muttered, guilt washing over her face. Dean's father nodded slowly, "Thank you, ma'am." He recognized that the nurse was likely new at the job and hated this part of it. He was able to set his own pain aside for a second to offer human compassion, "I know it's not your fault. You're just the messenger. Can you tell me what happened?" It amazed Dean that his father was so composed. Bennie was already collapsed in the chair he had just been sleeping in, his hands hiding his face. Sami and Mia were holding each other desperately. Zoe was sobbing hysterically and his mother looked about ready to fall over. And Dean? He was leaning into Seamus without realizing it. The short Irishman was struggling to not fall over, keeping an arm around Dean's waist to help keep the balance.

"Unfortunately, he was hit so fast that it broke a rib and part of the bone punctured his lung. They tried to perform emergency surgery to patch up the lung. That part actually went successfully, but while they were in there they saw that there was internal bleeding, and it was too late to stop it. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Your empathy is appreciated, miss. Who can I see about the billing?" His father said plainly as if they had been told Alvie just broke his arm and not that he had just lost a son. Dean could not bare to hear the truth anymore. He turned to his mother and pulled her into his arms. She was a piece of cardboard, weightless and flimsy. She fell into her tall son's arms, not hugging him back — too shocked to do so. Dean's father walked off to handle the billing with the receptionist and discuss what to do with his son's body. Dean's little brother, his youngest sibling in fact, was a lifeless body now. A corpse. Dean suddenly remembered holding baby Alvin eleven years ago. He had just come home from his first year at Hogwarts over Christmas break. When he got off at Platform 9 ¾ nobody was there to meet him for hours because his mother had abruptly and suddenly gone into labor. He waited out the night in a hospital, not unlike he had today. But that night had a far more pleasant conclusion.

Dean wasn't sure how he made it back to his family's home. He was vaguely aware of his body moving, but couldn't remember anything that had been said to him in the past half hour. All he knew for sure was that he was lying in his old twin bed with Seamus curled on a sleeping bag on the floor below. Normally, they might have squashed together into the twin bed, but not when they were sharing the room with Bennie. Bennie was inconsolable. He cried heavily for ages before Dean's brotherly instincts kicked in. He got out of his bed, easily stepping over Seamus who had a pillow squashed over his face. Dean sat down on Bennie's bed across the room.

"Ben,"

"I-I'm s-sorry." He choked out, his voice wobbling a great deal.

"C'mere."

"No. No. I'll hurt you."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Bennie." Dean had no choice but to use his authority voice. Bennie looked up at him in the dark, just able to make out his brother's face. He had been sitting at the head of his bed, knees curled up to his chest and sobbing. But when Dean spoke his name again he uncurled himself and scooted over toward his big brother. Dean wrapped an arm around Bennie's shoulder. "You didn't kill him. It could have been any one of you that went to fetch the ball."

"No, I asked him to do it. So it's my fault." Bennie argued vehemently.

"You did not drive the car that was going highway speeds on a residential street. You did not hit and kill Alvie. You did what both of you have done countless times, ask the other for a favor. You did not kill him." Dean insisted firmly, squeezing his brother's shoulder. Bennie looked up at him through his watery eyes and nodded, the tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Dean awkwardly hugged his brother from the side. "Listen," Dean whispered, his tone softening dramatically, "You're the only brother I've got left now. We have to support each other through this, okay? I know we were never as close as you wanted us to be, but that changes now." He knew full well that Bennie disliked Dean always being off in the wizarding world. "If you need me, you tell me and I'll come running, Bennie. I couldn't bare to lose another brother. I know this is going to be hard for you especially, but you have to promise me that you will take care of yourself." Bennie nodded slowly, still staying quiet. After a while the brothers separated and Dean stood again, "I love you Benjamin."

He could see his brother smile weakly and heard his dry laugh, "Shut up, Dean." It had been a long running family joke to never call him by his birth name. Just like Alvie, he hated his given name. Alvie and Bennie had always given Dean grief for having the "easy" name that didn't need another form. He reached out and hugged his brother properly one more time, "Get some sleep buddy." He murmured before finally letting him go. He lied back down in his own bed and tried very hard not to think about his dead brother lying on a bed of ice somewhere in a hospital, waiting to be buried. But the minute he tried not to think about, he was thinking about it. He tossed and turned all night, only getting a wink of sleep here and there.

The next morning, the family had progressed in slightly through their grief. Dean's father cooked a full breakfast of pancakes and bacon, and each plate told a different story. His father's plate was cleaned off at a regular pace. Seamus' food slowly found its way from the plate to his stomach, though somewhat reluctantly. Dean's plate remained half eaten before he abandoned trying to eat. Bennie didn't touch anything. Mia stabbed her pancakes aggressively and chomped down bits of bacon, though she didn't seem to taste anything. His mother was almost constantly crying, though usually quietly, and a few tears even dripped off her chin and onto her food. Zoe and Sami's plate matched Bennie's — untouched. Zoe seemed to be staring off into space, looking pained while Sami was knitting under the table.

"We've planned to have Alvie buried tonight." Dean's mother choked out as half of the plates were emptied. "I can give you each a twenty to get something black if you don't already have anything suitable. I know this is hard on … all of us, but we have to lay him to rest properly. It's what he deserves, so I expect you all to be there." Dean wondered, vaguely, what a funeral was like, having never been to a muggle funeral in his life until then.

...

It was terrible. Everyone's misery just seemed to increase his own. He desperately relied on his pratner through this time. He held Seamus' hand through the majority of the funeral proceedings, save for when he was a pallbearer with his siblings. When they sat in their pews in the church (which Dean had not attended in a decade) Dean grasped Shay's hand again and whispered under his breath, "Remind me to send an owl to the Weasleys later."

"Why?"

"I need them to know that I understand their pain now." Dean said earnestly. It was true, he now could painfully empathize with the unexpected loss of a brother. Seamus just nodded, making a mental note to indeed remind him later. In the meantime, they sat through various speeches in front of Alvie's (closed) casket. It was an unfashionable affair, given that the family didn't have much money, especially not after paying the bill for the surgery that did not save Alvie Thomas' life. The casket was nothing more than a pine box, not that it really mattered at all. Dean doubted the dead cared how they were disposed of. He listened to his parents speak, but tuned out everyone else. Some of his school friends and a teacher spoke about how he was such a sweet young lad. Dean didn't want to hear what he knew was already true: his brother had been a wonderful little boy and now he was dead and would never grow to be a magnificent adult.

The rest of the day was a blur. He vaguely remembered throwing dirt onto the too small coffin that was put in a six foot deep hole. He remembered holding his mom again, and he remembered his stepfather finally breaking down in tears when he thought nobody was looking after the funeral was over. He remembered reminding Bennie to call him if he needed him, no matter what. But he didn't quite remember anything in between. As he laid in his own bed at home to sleep for the night, he realized that he had not eaten anything. He decided against eating anything at such a late hour. Instead he laid his head down on his pillow and stared at the ceiling as Seamus finished showering in the bathroom down the hall.

Finally, in this quiet space where nobody could hear or see him, Dean prayed. He did not clasp his hands, did not kneel before his bed, did not look out the window at the sky. Instead he simply shut his eyes and let his thoughts into the world, hoping his God would find them. _Please watch over Alvie. And Alvie, if you can hear me somewhere out there I want you to know how much we all miss you. You were the baby of the family, and I'm sorry I won't be able to see you grow up anymore. I'm not going to forget you Alvie, I promise. Be good wherever you are. If it's in fact Heaven, please listen to the rules. I don't want you kicked down somewhere else just because you decided to prank Jesus or something. I love you so much Alvie. Goodbye._ He did not realize that tears had streamed from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks and into his pillow. He also did not notice (as his eyes were shut) that Seamus had walked in the room shortly after he had finished silently saying his prayer. He heard a footfall on the carpet and he blinked his eyes open to see Seamus standing at the foot of the bed with a towel around his waist.

"Are you okay?" He asked seriously.

Dean nodded slowly, "I think I will be."

Seamus watched him closely for a moment before finally nodding, seemingly satisfied that Dean would in fact make it through this grief. Dean rolled over onto his side, shutting his eyes again. Within a few moments he felt Seamus' arm around his middle, pulling himself closer to Dean. Dean giggled a bit, "You know this probably looks ridiculous."

"What? I'm just trying to comfort."

"I know, but you're so tiny and I'm so tall and you're the little spoon." Dean couldn't help but laugh as he tried to imagine the bird's eye view of this.

"Well I'm glad to see you can still laugh. At least it hasn't broken you down that much." Seamus said seriously, kissing Dean's bare shoulder as he cuddled up close to him.

Dean realized he was right. He had not laughed until then. It felt wrong to do it, but he knew deep down that it was okay to laugh in the face of pain. He let out a deep sigh before allowing himself to relax. His muscles loosened and he slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Accident

June 2001

Seamus could not hear a word that Dean was saying. It wasn't as if this was a club where some thumping electronic music deafened the whole room. No, this was supposed to just be a nice bar … with a very loud weekend DJ apparently. The whole place was packed, the lights seemed somewhat dimmer than usual, and the music was just a titch on the loud side. Seamus already struggled to hear in general when there was too much background noise. But he was sitting less than a meter away from Dean and he couldn't make out what he was saying. He clearly had an expression of confusion as moments later Dean leaned in, deliberately brushing his lips against Seamus' ear, "Why don't we let someone else take our seats so we can go dance?" Seamus didn't need more than half a second to agree. He threw a note on the bar for the kind bartender who had helped them get buzzed.

This was their night out. Awhile back, Dean had insisted that they needed to go out into the gay community more. Seamus had no idea that such a thing existed, being raised in the wizarding community where you were simply divided by houses. But Dean had insisted it would help them feel a little less unwelcome in the muggle world of London. So they had started frequenting the gay hotspots about town, hoping to find a place where they fit in. Dean certainly seemed to, but Seamus still felt slightly out of place. Or perhaps he just felt naked without his wand, which Dean had firmly insisted he leave at home, because: "Whenever you get drunk you try using magic for everything and then everything catches on fire!" It was as if he had to strip off one identity only to wear a different one he was less familiar with. It was something like irony, since Seamus was the gayer of the two of them.

But Seamus was happy enough, especially with liquid courage in his system. Dean was outrageously handsome, seeming to exude confidence as he pulled Seamus through the crowd. Granted, many of the men in the room were incredibly attractive but Seamus didn't care about them very much. Oh sure, he could glance at a man across the room and think filthy thoughts, but it was brief and unimportant. He imagined most straight men were the same way when seeing other attractive women about town. But Dean stood out from the crowd that night. It wasn't as if he was wearing anything out of the ordinary. Although, Seamus noted, Dean had deliberately worn his tightest shirt that was actually a size too small and always managed to ride up and show his midriff. But no tight, ill-fitted shirt was the reason for Seamus rekindled desire for his partner. No, it was definitely the swagger. This bravado that only seemed to show itself in the dark corners of a gay bar.

It took a surprisingly long time for Dean to find enough space for the two of them to dance. The bar was packed on a hot Saturday night. It had been hot enough outside all the day, and while the fans were on all over the inside of the bar, Seamus was still working up a sweat. Although that could have been in part due to the gyrating and the hormones, but he wasn't exactly in a logical enough frame of mind to realize it. They danced through a few rock songs that Dean recognized, and Seamus was completely unfamiliar with, before he excused himself to the lavatory. As Dean walked away, Seamus pulled himself out of the crowd, finally finding a wall to lean against. Seamus had not realized until that moment that he had a semi. His face flushed red as he tried to hide among the shadows along the wall, hoping nobody else noticed. As if anyone in this incredibly gay bar were going to care about an erection.

One, two, and three sexual-innuendo-laced rock songs played without Dean's return. Seamus started to get anxious and decided he would wander around until he found him. It couldn't be that hard to find a six foot tall black man in a gay bar — could it? But after much pacing, he still came up unsuccessful. He stopped at the bar briefly to take a couple shots. He still did not feel totally comfortable in the building, especially not without Dean to guide him through it. After his quick shots of whiskey, he set about searching for his boyfriend again. He really wanted to enjoy this for Dean, and when he spotted him across the room he decided he had to show him that he was having fun. And, in his drunken state, could think of no other way to do it than spin him around and kiss him. Standing on his tiptoes with his eyes screwed shut, Seamus kissed Dean heavily. His hand was balled up in Dean's shirt. Oddly, it felt less like the cotton too-tight tee that he had been wearing and more like unnaturally smooth polyester. Seamus didn't think much of it until he broke the kiss, fell to his feet, opened his eyes, and saw the man in front of him was definitely not Dean.

"Well hello to you too." The six foot three dark skinned man with a deep set voice said flirtatiously down to Seamus.

"I'm so sorry. Wrong man." Seamus spitted out quickly before dodging into the crowd. He hid behind the tall people in the bar until he finally saw Dean waiting where they had been dancing only twenty minutes ago. He scurried over to him and before he could say anything, "Where've you been? I went to get us some more, but the bartender was being an ass and kept taking other guy's orders before me." Dean explained as he handed Seamus a Guinness.

Seamus took the glass and stared down at the dark alcohol. He looked back up at Dean. Sweet, innocent, too-good-for-Seamus Dean.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked curiously, not suspecting anything bad at all. Seamus realized he was able to hear him now. The music was quieter. Had someone complained? "Shay?" Dean repeated, trying to get his attention again.

"Thank you." He choked out, "For the drink. Let's finish 'em up and go."

"Go? Why?"

"Because. I just — it's really hot in here." Seamus pathetically explained.

"Alright. That's okay." Dean said calmly, not wanting to seem to upset. They quickly and quietly polished off their beers before stepping out and heading down the street toward their flat. Dean seemed to have lost whatever buzz he had, while Seamus was wobbling quite a lot. As they rounded a corner onto their street, Seamus almost fell into the street itself. Dean grabbed onto his arm quickly and yanked him back onto the sidewalk. "Are you alright? You didn't have any more to drink than I did, and I'm usually the lightweight of the two of us."

Seamus shook his head as they walked up to their building, "Had two whiskey shots 'fore I found you." He explained quickly, his words slurred a bit.

Dean laughed a bit as he opened the front door and helped Seamus up the stairs to their apartment, "Well I suppose that explains it. I got'ch'ya. C'mon."

They finally ended up in their apartment again, and the minute Dean shut the door Seamus burst into ugly tears. No beautiful, one tear down the cheek like the men in the films did. No, this was gross sobbing. He was not usually a sad drunk, but his remorse and the inebriation did not pair together well.

"Merlin's beard," Dean muttered, "Shay, what's the matter?"

"I did a stupid stupid thing." He blubbered between hideous cries. Dean lead the wobbly, short man to the couch and sat him down. He grabbed a box of tissues for him.

"What did you do?" Dean asked curiously, suspecting personally that Seamus had caught something on fire even without his wand and that had been why he wanted to leave so quickly.

Seamus took a moment to clean his face and clear his sinuses before telling Dean the truth, "When you di'n't come back I went to find you. Must've walked right by you at the bar. Anyway, I had the shots and I wanted to show you that I was 'aving fun. Because you always worry about whether or not I'm axe-ually having a good time. So I kep tryin' t' find you. I says to meself 'Seamus, ye go find your man and show him you're happy. Show him ye love him.' And I went and fuckin' kissed a stranger by mistake. It was a total accident. I di'n't see his face. I just 'sumed it was you, spun the random man around, shut me eyes, and kissed a perfect stranger. I'm so sorry. I'm a foul man, Dean Thomas. Ye don't deserve such a piece of shite in your life. I understand if ye'd like to toss me out the window righ' now." Seamus felt as if lead had filled his bloodstream, and he had started to cry again halfway through his confession. It only made his slurred speech more difficult to translate. But Dean understood him well enough, having known Seamus long enough to have heard him cry while drunk before.

Seamus blabbered on for a while longer, not noticing or looking to see that Dean was trying not to laugh with a big dopey grin on his face. Right as Seamus was professing how he should've known he was a "cretin" all along, he glanced over and saw Dean's smile and his shoulders wobbling with laughter. "What's all this?" He asked, suddenly seeming frustrated.

"Love," Dean said once his laughter had gotten under control, "I'm not mad."

"Why not?" Seamus said righteously, which almost sent another laugh out of Dean.

"Because you didn't mean to and clearly you feel really bad about it." Dean pointed out. "I would be mad if you meant it, or if it was an accident but you didn't care or kept it a secret from me. How long were you carrying that for? Like, half an hour? No, I don't need to worry about you cheating on me if this is how bad you feel for doing it by mistake."

Seamus sniffled. He supposed Dean had a point. "Yeah. I do feel terrible for it."

Dean pulled Seamus over into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his cheek, "You poor thing. Don't fret yourself anymore, okay? I still love you. I'm not going to throw you out the window for kissing someone else on accident."

Seamus smiled a bit, laughing through the tears dried on his cheeks. "Thanks Dean. Is it okay if I kiss you or would that be too weird?" Dean answered the question by kissing Seamus sweetly. Whatever taste of the last man had been there had been washed away by the Guinness. It didn't take very long for Seamus to forget his needless guilt and fall for Dean all over again.


	11. Summer

July 2004

Dean was rudely awoken on a Saturday morning with a thump in the head from a pillow. He groaned and pulled his blanket over his head. He heard Seamus laugh, "Accio!" and the blanket whipped away from his body.

"Shaaaaaaaaay." Dean whined pathetically.

"Get up, get up, get up!" Seamus encouraged as Peanut came scrambling down the hallway. She always picked up on tones of excitement and got herself overexcited in the process. She jumped up onto the bed and first ran toward Seamus at the end of the bed, then to Dean. Peanut sniffed at him with her wet nose, sending chills through him. "No, Peanut. Bad. Down." He said irritably. Peanut jumped down and sat on the floor on his side of the bed and barked resolutely at him.

"Even Peanut agrees with me. It's time to get out of bed."

"One more hour."

"Not a chance." Seamus said, flicking his wand quietly. He had done his best to practice unspoken spells. His job as an auror effectively required it, and he had failed on more than one occasion to use them when needed. But this time he was successful, and was able to use magic to physically knock Dean out of bed. He fell on his rear and shot Seamus a cold look. "What on earth did you need to get me out of bed for at …" He turned to look at his bedside clock, "Eleven in the morning on a Saturday?" He groaned as he finally stood, now towering over Seamus instead of looking up at him.

"Because it's a beautiful day today. The sun will be out, no clouds in the sky, no chance of rain. A mild breeze. No humidity. It's the perfect day to go to the beach. And I've been itching to go. Will you go with me and Peanut to the beach Dean? Please?" Seamus asked with puppy dog eyes that matched Peanut's precisely.

Dean laughed a bit and smiled, "Of course. But you could have been a little more polite about it, instead of throwing me out of bed. Literally." He complained as he got up.

"But then it's not fun!" Seamus teased. He grabbed Dean's hand and pulled himself closer to him to give him his good morning kiss. On a whim, Dean kissed back a little heavier than he usually would. Seamus pulled away, "Nice try. Not even _that_ is going to get you back in bed now." He laughed pecked Dean's cheek before heading back out of the bedroom, but not before calling back to him down the hall, "Best get your trunks on, Peanut's impatient. I'm walking out the door in ten minutes with or without ye."

Dean rolled his eyes to himself, knowing Seamus was not serious. But he nonetheless changed out of his loose fitting pyjama shorts into his swim trunks. It was rare that they ever went on excursions like this. But every once in awhile, like today, it was just the kind of day that required going to the beach. He grabbed a couple of towels and sunscreen, packing them up in their "sand bag" that they used exclusively for such excursions. It usually always had a fine layer of sand at the bottom of it, hence the name. He shouldered the bag and followed the overexcited Seamus and Peanut out the front door. Seamus carefully transfigured Peanut into a pocket watch. It usually proves difficult to apparate with a dog, so it was easier to transfigure. Dean held out his arm as Seamus held tight to the pocket watch dog. The minute his hand was firmly over Dean's arm they felt a tug and pull behind their navel as they were sucked from one place to the next.

After a loud popping sound, they landed easily on the quiet shore off the English channel. Dean had come here once a long time ago with a primary school chum and his family. It was one of the quietest beaches he had ever been to. It was a small beach to be sure, and far enough out of the way that few ever appeared. Seamus put the pocket watch in the sand and transfigured Peanut back into her regular dog form. She barked up at him with delight, none the wiser that she had been inanimate for a brief period. Peanut looked about excitedly and started running straight for the water. Seamus raced after the dog as Dean tried to shout out that he still needed sunscreen.

But it was no use, Seamus just wanted to play with his dog. Dean grumbled as he rolled out their towels on the sand, "Pasty white boy's gonna regret it." Unlike Seamus, Dean took time to actually put on sunblock. He had no desire to get skin cancer. By the time he got to the water, Seamus had already retrieved a frisbee from seemingly nowhere. "Look, someone just left it here." Seamus explained with a big grin, tossing it into the water for Peanut. Seamus was already up to his hips in the water and was throwing closer to the shallows for Peanut, who couldn't swim very well. She thrashed around in the water toward the frisbee and caught it eagerly, running up to Dean with it. He grabbed the wet frisbee and threw it onto the sand for her.

"You're going to get burned." Dean said matter-of-factly toward Seamus.

"Am not." Seamus insisted like a child.

"Don't come crying to me when you're beat red and peeling." Dean said irritably as the dog returned with the disc. He tossed it for her again before heading into the cold water. He cringed a little as it reached up his legs. He hated that feeling so much. Seamus laughed at Dean's wince and couldn't help but splash him. Dean looked over his shoulder and shot him a glare. "Oh cheer up, Dean. No need to be so sour."

In truth, Dean was unsure why he was irritated by every little thing. Perhaps his job had grinded him down to nothing but a nub that felt nothing but anger. He certainly had little else but anger toward his job these days. He was sick of being told what to create. He wanted to draw and paint what he liked, not have to make advertisements. But he recognized that he should be leaving these frustrations at work, not bringing them home with him. And certainly not bringing them to the beach. Dean groaned, frustrated with himself, and fell forward into the water. The cold shocked his system quickly, forcing himself to adjust to the temperature quickly. He swam forward a little under the water, his eyes open. His mother always yelled at him not to do it, but he loved it. He never had vision problems and it was funny to see how blurry things were under water. He popped back out of the water, the water now up to his shoulders where he stood.

Seamus was swimming toward him, but when he reached him he couldn't touch without dipping under the water. He pouted, "Why d'you have to be so damn tall?"

"Oh, quit your whining, I got you." Dean said with a smile as he pulled Seamus even closer, holding him by his hips. Seamus got the idea and wrapped himself around Dean, legs over his hips and arms around his shoulders. Dean was easily able to hold on to him in the weightless water. Seamus giggled playfully, "There, you feeling better?"

"It's hard not to be happy with you being such a goof." Dean said honestly, leaning in to kiss Seamus innocently. But what started out as a trivial peck of the lips turned into something Seamus had seen coming a mile away. The proximity, the feeling of floating, and the small amount of warmth shared between their bodies caused them to become totally enraptured with each other. Kisses deepened, teeth displayed, tongues used. It took the sound of Peanut barking to alert them back to the real world and pull away from each other. Seamus turned and looked toward shore to see their dog chasing several seagulls across the sand.

"Oh thank god. I thought someone had showed up."

"Would that have been a problem?" Dean asked with a little laugh.

Seamus turned back to Dean with a smirk, "What if it had been an old little lady? I think the sight of two men snogging in the middle of the sea may have given an old lady a heart attack."

"Oh, you worry too much." Dean said, going to kiss him again.

"No, no, no. No more. Later." Seamus insisted, unwinding his body from around Dean's and instead treading in the water beside him.

"Why?" Dean whined like a child.

"Because, if ye keep it up like that I'll have to nail ye right there on the beach and that's not a good idea for a host of reasons. So — later." Seamus declared as he started swimming to shore. Dean couldn't help but laugh as he walked behind Seamus, following him. He caught the frisbee on his way and tossed it again for Peanut who had scared all the gulls away. The two lovebirds finally made it ashore and Seamus plopped straight onto the ground and started playing in the sand. "What are you doing Shay?" Dean asked as Peanut bounded toward him, sand flying every which way, and handing him the disc.

"Building a sandy Hogwarts of course."

Dean let out an unattractive laugh as he tossed the disc down the beach for the dog. "You think you can make a sand version of Hogwarts?"

"Ye think I can't?" Seamus challenged with a glimmer in his eyes. Dean couldn't help but grin, he loved this man child. He was so cute when he was playful like this.

Dean tossed the disc a few more times with Peanut before Seamus chimed in, "Why aren't you helping me out?"

"I don't think Peanut will let me." Dean said as he tossed the frisbee for the tenth time.

"Oh if ye just stop throwing she'll stop. Come on, help me out. You're the artist." Seamus insisted, patting the sand beside him. Dean sat down as Peanut raced back to him. She dropped the toy in front of him and wagged her tail expectantly. "All done, Peanut. No more." She watched him patiently as he started to help Seamus build up the structure. When five minutes passed without him picking up the frisbee Peanut whined and wandered off along the beach. The castle was as difficult to recreate with sand as Dean had expected. They ended up only building a few of the towers and the great hall, rather than recreate the whole massive complex. They easily got the general shape built, but it was the details that they struggled with. Neither of them realized how much time was passing as they were building the castle.

After the fifth time of lobbing off the top of a tower to redo the style of the roof tiles, Dean was starting to get frustrated. Seamus was getting equally pissy with the windows he tried to carve into the sand with his fingernails. They all ended up too wobbly. Finally, Seamus groaned in frustration, "It's not worth it." He stood with his hands in fists at his side. He gave Dean a knowing look before smashing his foot through the sand castle. Dean smiled and joined in the destruction. Even Peanut ran over to see what the fuss was about and jumped all over the sand with them until the castle was no more.

Once the castle had been sufficiently destroyed, Dean happened to glance up at the blue sky and notice the sun had sunk quite dramatically. "We should probably head on home, Shay." He recommended as his eyes shifted from the sky to his boyfriend. He burst into laughter, "Oh yeah, we definitely need to go home. You're red as tomato." Seamus looked down at his arms and frowned, "Aww man. I was really hoping it would just tan a little."

"Well it's a bit late for that. C'mon, let's get you home." Dean suggested. He walked over to wear he had laid their things and grabbed his towel, dusting off the sand that coated most of his body. He tossed Seamus his wand that he had left in the area, and Seamus quickly transfigured Peanut back into a pocket watch. Dean rolled up their towels and ran back to Seamus, who already had his arm out for him.

With a swift pop they landed in their back garden. "Oh, remind me to water these poor things tomorrow." Seamus said immediately when he saw the state of his plants. Dean headed inside as Seamus brought Peanut back to her doggie self. He held the door open for Peanut to race in, like she always did. After cleaning up and a quick change into something dry, Dean sat down with Seamus in the living room, slathering a orange paste on his back and shoulders.

"Ooh, ow, ow, ah, OW!"

"This is what you get for not listening to me."

"Yeah yeah, shut up nurse Thomas."


	12. Tradition

December 24th, 2005

Dean was awoken by a smattering of kisses all over his face. Dean couldn't help but laugh as Seamus crooned, "Merry Christmas, Dean Thomas." Dean opened his eyes and looked up at his half naked lover and grinned, "Merry Christmas to you too, Seamus Finnigan. But were you aware that it's only the eve of Christmas?"

"Yes, but it's our Christmas today." He explained.

"Oh, right. Right. How silly of me." Dean chuckled as he stretched all his limbs out, working the tired out of his muscles. Of course Seamus was calling today Christmas, because even though tomorrow was the official Christmas day they were spending it with family and friends. Today was their own private Christmas, just the two of them and Peanut. Dean climbed out of bed and pulled on his flannel pyjama shirt that he had gotten too hot for last night. He tossed Seamus his matching one. Dean's was red, Seamus' was green. It had been their cheesy gift for last year. After seven years of being together, and five Christmas' living together, they had developed a number of traditions.

This was the first: pyjamas.

Seamus pulled his over his head and headed out of the bedroom with him, scurrying down the stairs. At the bottom Peanut was spinning in circles and bouncing around with excitement. Seamus beat Dean to the bottom of the steps and ran out of sight. As Dean touched down onto the first floor Seamus reappeared, putting a pair of foam reindeer antlers on Peanut's head. She was a very good dog and didn't ever try to take them off. This was a newer tradition, but a tradition nonetheless.

"Preheat the oven," Dean said as he reached the kitchen and headed for the fridge. Seamus had already turned the dial on the oven. "Already done," He assured him as he scurried away from the kitchen towards the living room and fiddling with the telly and VCR. Dean carefully took out the apple pie he had prepared the night before. It was one of his favorite pies, and had been his own family's tradition for years. Seamus had been more than happy to keep up the tradition. He waited a few minutes for the oven to finish heating up before placing it in. He set a timer for a couple of hours and headed to the living room. He flopped on the couch next to Seamus who had just put in the film _It's A Wonderful Life_. Seamus' family had watched it every year since he could remember, and Dean was more than willing to adopt it into their traditions. As the film played the two snuggled up close. The window was wide open and let in a gleaming white light of the sun reflecting against the snow. Their pine tree stood in the corner, bedecked with ornaments and stuffed with presents underneath - most of which were for tomorrow when they would see friends and family. They had three stockings taped to their entertainment center, just below the telly. Each one was stuffed with little goodies, but they would wait to open them until later.

The two cuddled close on the couch, Peanut hopping up and sprawling across their laps. As the film progressed, the whole house began to smell strongly of apples and cinnamon. Per usual, Seamus was tearing up by the end of the film. Dean never asked why or bothered him about it; he wasn't even sure if Seamus knew that Dean noticed every time. As the credits began to roll, Dean kissed Seamus' cheek. He patted Peanut's rear, asking her to get off. She jumped down onto the floor and followed Dean as he went to the kitchen. "Oh quit it, Pea. You're not getting any of it." He said, nudging her out of the way so he could safely remove the perfectly baked pie out of the oven. It didn't take long to find Seamus peeking into the kitchen with an eager smile. "Ready for breakfast?" Dean asked as he cut them up some slices and dropped a scoop of ice cream on each. Seamus didn't verbally answer, he just ran into the kitchen and grabbed his plate and devoured the pie in one minute flat. Dean laughed to himself, glancing at the clock, "I think that's a new record, Shay." Dean, meanwhile, had not even had a third bite.

Seamus shrugged as he licked the vanilla ice cream off his plate. Dean had finished his first slice by the time Seamus had finished his second. Dean begrudgingly through Peanut an apple from his pie. She swallowed it whole. Dean pulled his wand out from his pyjama pocket, casting a cleaning charm at the same time that Seamus flicked his wand to put them back into the cabinet. "Okay, my turn." Dean said as he moved back to the living room and took out _It's A Wonderful Life_ and replaced with _How The Grinch Stole Christmas_ , already rewound. Unlike Seamus, Dean was religious about rewinding the VHS tapes when he was done watching them. They plopped on the couch for a brief hour to watch Dean's favorite film. Seamus always cracked Dean up when he would try to grin like the Grinch. "You look like a demented goblin." He would tease every time. As the film was ending, Seamus stood and ran upstairs to their room making it down just in time for the Grinch's heart to grow three sizes.

He threw Dean a pair of snow pants and thick socks. Dean absentmindedly pulled the snow pants on over his pyjama bottoms as he continued to watch the movie. The film ended and he clicked the rewind button on the VCR, sitting in front of it and pulling on his socks as the tape rewound. Seamus was already totally bundled as Dean put the tape back on the shelf in their entertainment center. Dean pulled on his boots and his big coat. He couldn't help but laugh at how fluffy they both looked. Seamus put little booties on Peanut, even though she didn't really need them, and they all paraded out into the front yard.

Peanut sprang around in the snow, happy to just see the snow flying around her. Seamus and Dean, meanwhile, attempted to build themselves an igloo. They ended up with a small lump of a space that neither of them could fit in at all. So they collapsed it back down and decided to build a few snow people instead. Seamus ran around the house and grabbed them some sticks to use as arms. Dean crafted a stubby little person of snow, giving it a few sticks of hair to add some more personality to it. Seamus, on the other hand, made a tall snowman with a big smile and difficult to see eyes carved in the snow with the sticks. When they had managed to use all the snow in the yard they finally headed back inside. On the doormat they shook their snow off with Peanut and pulled themselves out of their boots and snow suits. Seamus tugged Dean down to him as he plopped out of his snow pants, nearly knocking him off balance. Seamus leaned up as he pulled Dean down and kissed him sweetly. When he pulled away again his cheeks were flushed slightly, though Dean was sure it was just from the cold. "What was that for?" Dean asked curiously.

Seamus pointed up, showing Dean where he had taped a sprig of mistletoe. Dean smiled, "Another new tradition?" He asked. Seamus nodded, "And I have the right to put it in a new place every year. That way you don't know when to expect it."

"You think I would have seen that," Dean remarked as he headed into the den again, "Considering I'm nearly as tall as the doorway. How did you get it up there anyway?"

"Duh, magic." Seamus laughed as he followed Dean. He plucked their stockings off the TV stand and handed Dean his. "You go first this year."

Dean eagerly fished into his giant sock and pulled out the first thing his hand latched onto. It was a Christmas cracker, of course. He wondered if it was going to be magic or muggle. He popped it open with the same excitement he experienced as a child. A big cloud of pink smoke erupted from inside it and out fell a small bottle of what appeared to be a love potion. "Seamus, what is this?" Dean said, holding the tiny bottle of dark purple liquid in his hand. It looked like just enough for one dose. "It's not a love potion." Seamus explained, "It's for … longer nights together." Dean made a curious face and turned the bottle over to see some writing on the back. His cheeks and neck became incredibly hot with surprise and mild embarrassment. It was a wizard sex supplement. "Why did you have to make that the first one?" He asked a bit irritably as he dug back into the sock for the next gift. Seamus just kissed his cheek in response.

The next item was far more innocent, three Aero bars tied together in a red ribbon. It was one of Dean's favorite chocolates. He immediately unwrapped one and let it hang from his mouth as he nibbled on it. Still biting away at his treat, he pulled out the remaining items in his stocking: a chocolate frog (his other favorite chocolate), a new pair of reading glasses, a new pack of shading pencils, and a pair of teeny tiny hippogriff salt and pepper shakers. Dean had an unreasonable love of tiny household items. He had a growing collection of oddities like this that Seamus managed to find him. He had a teacup that could holy only a teaspoon of tea.

"Thank you, love." Dean said, pulling Seamus closer to him and kissing him. "Okay, you're turn, go on!" He encouraged, handing Seamus his purple stocking. Seamus immediately dumped them all on the floor, as was his preferred method. Among his goodies were Bertie Bott's, a pair of claddagh covered socks, a new robe pin, and a little pepperup potion to last him the rest of cold season. Unlike Seamus, Dean had not even considered purchasing any adult item. He was usually the least vulgar of the two of them, and fancied himself relatively innocent. Seamus thanked his sweetheart for his gifts and hinted that they should test out the potion he had given him a test run. Dean nudged him off again, insisting that they had to keep up with tradition and wait until nightfall for any frisky activity.

They dumped out Peanut's stocking and threw her a new bouncy ball that she eagerly played with and let her sniff at the rawhides that they bought her. They had even found a small bird like toy that they had charmed to fly around and act real. Peanut did not care about chasing cats or rodents, but she loved chasing birds. She was overjoyed with the toys and treats she had received this Christmas.

As the day continued on, they filled themselves with treat after treat, polishing off the edibles that had been in their stockings. The happy couple sprawled across the couch, each cradling their stuffed stomachs as they put on _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ , the first Christmas movie they had ever watched together. There was no big fanfare for dinner, as the real big meals always came on Christmas day. Instead they had some old leftovers, polishing it all off with even more pie than before. Despite the fact that both of them were filled to the brim with food, it still did not stop them from moving up into their bedroom after a long day filled with foodie delights, snow, movies, and love.


	13. Fight

Dean couldn't keep his eyes opened. It was midnight. He flicked off the telly and headed for the bedroom at the back of the apartment. He was changing into his pyjamas for the night when he heard the door unlock, open, and close again. He tugged on his pyjama bottoms and poked his head out the bedroom and looked down the hall to see Seamus standing just inside the darkened apartment, taking his shoes off carefully. Dean had left his wand on his night stand, so he instead took a step into the hall and flicked on the lightswitch manually. Seamus' head popped up in surprise and looked up to see Dean standing at the end of the hall with his arms folded across the chest.

"Did I wake you?" Seamus asked nervously.

"No." Dean said simply, shaking his head with a sigh and turning back around to their bedroom and going straight to bed. He didn't have the energy to get into it with Seamus right now. He flopped down into bed, pulling the sheets up to his chin. It was only another moment or two before Seamus entered the room as well. Dean pretended to be asleep. Seamus shuffled about the room, probably changing into his own night clothes, before crawling into bed. Much to Dean's surprise, he felt Seamus move close to him and felt an arm wrap around his waist. Not very long ago this would have given Dean a feeling of excitement or delight. Right now, it only made him mad. He pulled away, out of Seamus' reach, "Oh now you want to be friendly?" He said stiffly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Seamus asked angrily, his voice raising.

"You know perfectly well what it means." Dean insisted, still not turning to face him.

"I honestly don't. What's the matter with you?"

That did it. Dean sat up quickly and turned to face Seamus, and he knew that such quick motions were liable to give him a crick in the neck later. "What's the matter with _me_? What's the matter with _you_? For the past few months you've barely been home, and when you are you don't so much as look at me let alone touch me. And now you come in and try to cuddle up to me, as if I'll be less mad at your for being home late again just because you deign to give me a sign of affection." His face was hot with anger and his muscles had reflexively tightened.

"Oh forgive me! I should have known better than to work late trying to save your arse from the kind of things I legally can't even tell you about. My bad. I'll just let the bad guys come and get you then. Apologies for doing my bloody job, and may I beg for your forgiveness that it's made it hard for me!" Seamus shouted angrily. "How dare you, Dean? I go out there every damn day trying to protect your sorry arse from the lunatics out there who still want to kill people like us!"

"How am I supposed to know that, Shay? I'm not a goddamn legilimens. You could bother to tell me this shit once in awhile." Dean said irritably. Deep in his mind, where his sane less furious self resides, he was concerned about this. But right now, all he could think of was how hurt he was.

"Oh and cry to you and have you try to fix everything? I don't think so. Ye can't fix my job, Dean. I don't expect ye to read me mind. I expect ye to let me deal with my own shit."

"So I'm not supposed to say anything when your problem is destroying our relationship?"

"Destroying our relationship? How is it destroying it?" Seamus was shocked that Dean genuinely thought their relationship was in peril.

"Apparently you're stress at work means that you never talk to me at all anymore. And now that we don't talk, we don't have sex either. So what would you call that? Two people who live together, don't have sex, and don't talk. I would call that roommates, not boyfriends." Dean said. It was painful, but it was his truth. His voice was no longer accusatory, without his noticing it had dipped into a tone of sorrow.

Seamus didn't have anything to say at first. He just stared back at Dean.

"Are you going to say anything?" Dean murmured.

"I don't know what to say. You seem pretty convinced that I've ruined our relationship. So I guess I'm just waiting for you to kick me out."

Dean's pain increased ten fold. "No. No. I'm not trying to blame you and I don't want to kick you out. You know, despite all the pain I've been in lately I still love you. Why do you think it hurts so bad when you don't talk to me? It's because I love you and I want to share with you and vice versa. I don't want you to leave. I don't want to break up. I just want things to change."

"I can't change my job."

"I'm not asking you to." Dean said. "I'm asking that if you can't talk to me, you should find someone to talk to at least. Maybe Harry and Ron? They do a lot of the same things you do, right?" Seamus nodded. "Then maybe start by venting about work with them before you come home, and making an effort to talk to me again even if it's not about work."

Seamus was silent again.

"And I'll try not to be a pain when you don't want to talk. I'll try better to understand. I would do anything for you, Shay. You know that."

Seamus nodded. Dean was tempted to ask again why he wouldn't talk, but he thought better of it given what he had just promised to do. He sat on the end of the bed and waited. Seamus sat beside him with a soft sigh. "I suppose you must have a point. About our not spending as much time together. When I thought about it I realized just how much I miss you. How much I miss us. How long has it been since we…?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe not since Valentine's day." Dean guessed. They usually made a point of intimacy on that particular day, but his memory was foggy and he couldn't even be sure if they had that year.

"Blimey — nearly a year?"

"Yeah." Dean wished he could laugh at how long it had been, but it hurt him more than it humored him. He had not felt close to Seamus in so long that the thought of intimacy made him nervous, like it had when they were first together.

"Do you want to try?" Seamus suggested, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink.

Dean glanced over at him and tensed up. He couldn't imagine what it would be like anymore. It was going to be entirely different. He wasn't sure he was ready for that. "Maybe not tonight. W-would it be okay if we take it slow? It sounds silly. We've been together for four years but I feel like this is like starting all over again."

"I understand what you mean." Seamus assured him, "We can take it slow. I'd rather take it slow than let it end."

"Of course."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be alright if we kissed? I can't remember the last time…"

Dean didn't answer him. Instead, he pulled Seamus close and kissed him. It was messy and uncoordinated at first, but they soon remembered their own rhythms. Seamus shifted slightly and lost his balance, accidentally falling into Dean. They laughed as they landed on the bed. It had been so long since they had been this happy together. They had plenty to work through, but in time they would be able to work through the problems. For now, the thing that mattered the most was learning to love each other again.


End file.
